


The Thousandth Man

by Deans___Beautiful___fallen_angel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF!Merlin, F/M, Hurt!Merlin, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Merthur - Freeform, Nightmares, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Magic Reveal, Psychological Trauma, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:58:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 72,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans___Beautiful___fallen_angel/pseuds/Deans___Beautiful___fallen_angel
Summary: Merlin just manages to get Arthur to the Sidhe in time for him to be saved. In the aftermath of Camlann and Merlin's magic reveal, not all is sunshine and rainbows. Will the two men be able to reconcile their relationship in the wake Merlin's secrets? Will the army gathering at Camelot's border throw a wrench in Camelot's peace? Will Merlin and Arthur ever acknowledge the feelings they have for each other? Lives will be changed, prices will be paid, and Camelot's golden age is just beyond the bend.





	1. The Reveal

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Dialogue and characters are property of BBC and Shine. 
> 
> I will do my best to tag what I can. If you see something that should be tagged please let me know.   
Title from The Thousandth Man by Rudyard Kipling

He thought he’d been in time. He’d thought he’d defied the prophecy. He’d thought Arthur would be fine. Oh boy, was he wrong. He struggled to carry Arthur away from the battlefield and into the woods. Tears were slowly falling as he gently placed Arthur against a fallen tree hidden in the forest, silently praying to any Gods that would listen to save his king. Gods, he hoped they be safe for a while and that Arthur would survive until Gaius could treat him. While Arthur lay motionless, Merlin went about setting up a small camp, lighting a fire, and getting a measly meal together in the case that Arthur woke. When he finished, he ached for something to do—something to keep him busy and keep his mind off the fact that Arthur was dying right in front of him, but with nothing left to do around the small camp until Gaius arrived, Merlin sat, at his king’s side—always at his king’s side--and watched Arthur breathe. What felt like an eternity later, as Merlin was taking a break from watching Arthur to watch the forest, Arthur began to stir. “Merlin” Arthur called, catching his servant’s attention and drawing it away from the forest. 

“How are you feeling?” Merlin left his spot to return to his king’s side. A small cry left Arthur’s lips, and Merlin placed a comforting hand on Arthur’s shoulder, to steady him, keep him down, and provide comfort all at once. “Easy. Lie back. Lie back.” Arthur needed to stay down, preserve his strength, and Merlin was going make sure that his King, his friend, would do exactly that. 

Another groan left Arthur as his hand gripped Merlin’s shoulder, and Merlin, always seeking to comfort and protect, grabbed Arthur’s wrist as a sign that he was there to help. The gesture was meant to comfort Arthur, but Merlin didn’t want to admit to himself that he needed the comfort just as much as his King did. “Where—where have you been?” 

With a gentle shake to Arthur’s arm, Merlin replied. “It doesn’t matter now.”   
Another sound, a mixture between and groan and a cry, left Arthur’s mouth. “Oh! My si—side.” Merlin steadied his grip on his king. His primary instinct to comfort, to protect, to love.   
“You’re bleeding.” Merlin said as he glanced at the wound again. 

“That’s all right. I thought I was dying.” Arthur was taking heavy breaths, a display of the agony he was so clearly in. 

Merlin watched his king as he bled and breathed, and a small hint of desperation crossed his face as he said, “I’m sorry.” Arthur shook his head, trying to appease his servant. Merlin could tell that Arthur was confused by the apology—could read on his face that he didn’t believe it was Merlin’s fault—could tell that Arthur was wondering what Merlin could possibly be apologizing for, but Merlin was having none of it. “I thought I’d defied the prophecy.” Arthur’s confusion showed on his face, but instead of providing an explanation Merlin just continued. “I thought I was in time.” 

With another shake of his head, Arthur asked “what are you talking about?” 

Merlin could tell Arthur was in pain and just wanted him to get to the point. He knew what he had to do, knew it might be his last chance, but that didn’t make it any easier--especially because he had to do it while watching the man he cared so deeply about slowly die. And even though he tried to keep his face straight--tried to keep his own pain and fear deep inside—Merlin could tell that part of his stress and pain was showing on his face. He didn’t know what he’d do if the man he spent his life serving, if the man his spent his life loving, rejected him. 

“I defeated the Saxons,” Arthur’s face shifted into a mixture of pain and confusion, but Merlin was determined to not be interrupted. “the dragon, and yet…and yet I knew it was Mordred that I must stop.” He spoke calmly, hoping that it would help with the news Arthur was receiving as well as help him deliver it without hinting at how upset he was. 

Arthur huffed a chuckle and gave Merlin a few pats where his hand rested on his shoulder and replied. “the person who defeated them was the sorcerer.” 

Merlin could tell that Arthur didn’t believe him. It was in his slightly pained face and the condescending pats Arthur had given him. He just couldn’t take it, and—to his embarrassment—he began to cry. “It was me.” He watched Arthur’s face as it displayed a few of Arthur’s current emotions. The confusion was replaced by disbelief which was then replaced with that look Arthur got when he was ready to cast aside whatever his servant had just said because he thought it was ridiculous.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin.” Arthur’s response was exactly what Merlin thought it would be, but that didn’t make hearing it any easier than the other thousand times Arthur had said something similar over their time together. It only made Merlin cry harder which resulted in another confused yet incredulous look from Arthur. “This is stupid. Wh—Why would you say that?” 

His inability to stop crying made it harder to say what he needed to. “I’m—” He had to stop—had to grasp Arthur a little harder and catch his breath. “I’m a sorcerer.” He was clear, well as clear as he could be while crying and shaking, but from the look on Arthur’s face, Merlin could tell this conversation was not going to go well. “I have magic.” His voiced cracked a little. He had to continue despite Arthur’s face slowly morphing into disbelief. “And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

“Merlin, you are not a sorcerer. I would know.” 

“Look…here.” Arthur had to know, but Merlin knew by his king’s face that Arthur did not want the confirmation. He turned to the fire, held out his hand, and said “upstæya draka.” The sparks from the fire crackled, took the shape of a dragon, which flapped its wings once and then dissipated. He turned back to Arthur, desperate for him to say something, anything, but for several moments Arthur just stared at the spot where the dragon had been, and Merlin knew him well enough to understand he was thinking, could almost see the cogs turning in his head. As the silence continued, Merlin saw his friend go vacant, could feel him distancing himself and putting up emotional walls, watched as he grunted and turned away as much as he was able, only to turn back shortly after, a look of fear and betrayal in his eyes, and Merlin knew it was over. 

“Leave me.” Time seemed suspended in that moment as Merlin forced himself to take in what was just said. 

“Arthur.”

“Don’t—just—you heard. Just—” And Merlin watched as Arthur separated himself, groaning in the process, and crawled backwards slightly to get as far away from Merlin as possible. Merlin just sat on his knees next to the man he devoted his life to and watched that same man turn away from him with anger, disbelief, and pain on his face. He went to touch him, to steady him again, but Arthur’s hand raised slightly as if he meant to block Merlin, and with a heavy heart, he obeyed his king for the first time, and he turned away and left his side. 

****

He had fallen into a fitful sleep at some point and had awoken many hours later. He had sensed Merlin’s presence near the fire beside him and refused to alert his servant to his awakeness. He just pretended to remain asleep to avoid the confrontation perhaps, but more because he could not look at Merlin without feeling betrayed, angry, and shocked. Shortly after he’d woken, as the sun was still rising in the sky, Arthur heard someone making their way through the trees and bushes, but he was stubborn, and he wouldn’t have been able to do anything away, so his eyes remained shut. He heard Merlin rise to meet whoever had come, and Gaius’ voice broke through the morning silence. “Any change?” 

“No” Arthur heard Merlin’s reply.

“Let me see.” With that Arthur heard Gaius begin to make his way over, but Arthur refused to open his eyes until Merlin was gone. Arthur felt Gaius’ presence beside him, and he heard Merlin huff. 

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“The hills are crawling with Saxons.”

“There’s no Yarrow, no Lady’s Mantle.”

“I’ve got Comfrey” Gaius replied while placing his hand on Arthur’s forehead. 

“You should’ve got Sticklewort. There must’ve been Sticklewort.” Arthur could hear Merlin’s desperation and concern and was almost touched until he remembered what had happened a few hours ago. 

“Merlin, why don’t you water the horses? And make sure they’re fed. We can’t hide here for much longer.” Arthur secretly hoped Merlin would do as asked. He needed to warn Gaius, tell him that Merlin was a sorcerer, and to do that he needed Merlin gone. Arthur heard Merlin hesitate, shifting his feet for a moment before he turned and left. 

He slowly opened his eyes to make sure Merlin was gone before grasping at Gaius’ legs. “He’s a sorcerer.” He anticipated shock or disbelief from Gaius. What he did not expect was the slightly guilty look that Gaius actually gave him. His look confirmed everything. Gaius already knew. “You knew.”

“Arthur,” Gaius paused, in a slightly condescending way. “He is your friend.” 

“I want him gone.”

“There is no need to fear him.”

“Have him take word to Camelot, to Guinevere.” Arthur needed him gone. He couldn’t deal with his betrayal, not now. Not after so many others. 

“We cannot send Merlin. I will go.”

Gaius wouldn’t budge. Arthur could tell by his tone he wasn’t going to listen. “I need a physician right now, not a sorcerer.” 

“He can do far more than me, far more than you can ever imagine.” Gaius’ tone was gentle, and he spoke softly like one would to a scared child, and Arthur was no such thing. He turned his head away. He didn’t want a lecture, he didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew there was no way he could get out of hearing whatever Gaius was about to tell him. “Arthur, he doesn’t just have magic. There are those who say he is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth.” 

More confusion. More disbelief. “Merlin?”

“If you are to stand any chance of survival, you will need Merlin to help you, not me.” With that, Gaius left his side and went to find Merlin. Arthur just closed his eyes again and listened to the distant muttering of Merlin and Gaius. 

A few minutes later, Merlin returned with a shy “Arthur?” He didn’t want Merlin, didn’t want to have to look at him and talk to him and be taken care of by him, but he turned his head slightly towards Merlin because he didn’t have a choice. “We need to leave at first light.” Arthur chanced a glance at Merlin standing a respectful distance away. His eyes glistened with tears and there were bags under his eyes—a sign of pain or lack of sleep. Arthur couldn’t be sure which one it was and for a moment, his heart tugged painfully of the sight of his servant so distraught and unsure, but Arthur couldn’t face the fact that he still cared, so he turned his head away again. 

Arthur was angry, betrayed, and upset, and he was king, but he still shocked himself when he replied with “I’ll decide.” 

“I can’t let you die.” Sadness seeped into Merlin’s voice, but Arthur told himself he didn’t care.

“It doesn’t change anything.” It really didn’t. Arthur couldn’t allow it to. He couldn’t allow himself to believe that Merlin cared because Merlin was a sorcerer, and sorcerers didn’t care about anything or anyone but power. If Arthur allowed himself to believe that Merlin cared, he would only be setting himself up for more disappointment. He was tired. Gods, was he tired. The sun was slowly sinking, and it would be dark soon. He didn’t fight when his eyes began to close, and he drifted off to the sound of Gaius and Merlin softly muttering a few feet away. 

****

Gaius was still there when Arthur woke, and for the next couple of minutes he sat while Merlin packed up the camp and readied the horses. When they were ready, Arthur was gently helped onto his horse, and Merlin completed the last few steps necessary before they could depart for wherever Merlin was taking him. He was too tired to ask. He called Gaius over to him and placed in his hand the royal seal. “Give this to Guinevere.” 

“It’s the royal seal, sire.”

“If I am to die, I can think of no one who’d I’d rather succeed me.” Gaius gave him a quick glance, as if checking to see if Arthur was sure, and left his horses side to have another murmured conversation with his traitor of a servant. That thought hit Arthur out of nowhere. The thought of Merlin being considered a traitor made his heart hurt, but Arthur couldn’t deny that, according to his laws, that’s what Merlin was, and it was a betrayal deeper felt than any other. 

He listened to the hushed voices of Gaius and Merlin behind him, too tired to really take in what was being said. Their voices grew solemn for a sentence or two before there was a hug and Merlin and Arthur set off into the forest. Arthur glanced back at Gaius, still unsure that leaving with Merlin was the right idea because, despite the comfort Merlin’s presence still managed to bring despite everything, it was hard to feel safe knowing that the man had magic, and powerful magic if Gaius was to be believed.

They rode for a few hours, managing to make it a considerable distance before any type of trouble crossed their path. They were riding down a hill, wide open plains with nowhere to hide when Merlin suddenly broke the silence. “Saxons” was all he said as Arthur heard the hoofbeats of the horses coming up to them. Merlin swung off his horse, grabbed a blanket from his horse, and started to spread it around Arthur’s slumped frame. “I’ll deal with them.” He continued to cover Arthur, a notion so much like what he used to do when getting Arthur ready for bed that it momentarily stunned Arthur. “Keep your head down. Don’t speak.” He stepped away from Arthur, and the king watched as Merlin’s head swiveled looking for options, as his eyes scanned everything, as he thought of a plan to get them out alive. It was some shock to Arthur that Merlin decided to yell “help us” at the men wanting to kill them. Merlin’s voice took on a helpless tone as he cried “Please, you have to help us—we were ambushed.”

“By who?”

“These two men.” Arthur was watching Merlin carefully wondering what the hell he could possibly be doing, and the king noticed that, despite Merlin’s pleading and somewhat distressed tone, his body was in control and tightly wound, ready for anything.

“What they look like?”

“Uhh…one was a—a knight. They stormed our camp.” Merlin pointed to a small plume of smoke rising in the trees in the distance, something Arthur hadn’t even noticed had grown in the past couple of minutes. As the Saxons turned to look, Merlin made his way back to Arthur’s side, and quickly covered his sword’s hilt from view. This was a version of Merlin that Arthur had never seen, confident, calculating, and completely sure of himself. It was hard to compare this Merlin to the bumbling servant of his who’d he’d known for so many years.

“You sure it was a Camelot knight?” Arthur could hear the suspicion in the Saxon’s voice, could tell there would be trouble. 

With a shrug, and much to Arthur’s dismay, Merlin only replied with “yeah.” Then Arthur watched as the Saxon moved his gaze to his horse, placed a hand on Merlin’s chest, and walked him backward. He flung the blanket back and revealed Arthur’s sword. In mere seconds their own swords were drawn, and Arthur had a brief thought of ‘what are we going to do now’ when Merlin straightened, thrust his hands forward and the two Saxons flew backward. Merlin may not have been facing him, but Arthur could tell by the set of Merlin’s shoulders that this was not the first time he’d done this, and that to Merlin it was as easy as breathing. He exuded confidence; he radiated power—two words Arthur had never associated with his idiot servant. This was not Arthur’s Merlin, and it only made Merlin’s betrayal sit heavier in his heart.

“You’ve lied to me, all this time.” Merlin inclined his head slightly, and his shoulders drooped slightly, but he didn’t face his king, nor did he respond. 

They rode for a few more hours, before it became too dark to see. Merlin carefully helped Arthur off his horse and propped him up against a tree. Without a word, he went to set up their small camp. Arthur watched him while he worked. This Merlin looked a lot like the one he was used to, although Merlin was much more serious than he would’ve been on a patrol, but then again, he had more reason to be. As Merlin worked, Arthur thought. He thought about the Merlin he knew. The bumbling idiot who called him an ass on the first day they met. The one that was always late whenever there was something important. The one who wasn’t afraid to mouth off to Arthur, to call him out when he was being rude or ridiculous. The one who was clumsy and gangly, but wise on occasion. The one Arthur cared so deeply for. He watched Merlin begin to place wood for a fire, and as he watched he grew angry because Merlin was supposed to be different from everyone else. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who lied to him like Uther had. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that kept things from him and refused to trust him like Morgana had, and he wasn’t supposed to be the one that let him down after Arthur had trusted him with his heart, soul, and mind like Agravaine had. Merlin was supposed to be the only one who wasn’t a traitor. 

Merlin was struggling to light the fire in front of him, sighing in frustration every time the wood refused to light, and Arthur found himself saying “why don’t you use magic?” It was a surprise to both of them. Arthur hadn’t meant to say it aloud, and Merlin seemed to freeze slightly at the question. 

“Habit, I suppose.” He turned to Arthur then, and Arthur nodded slightly with raised eyebrows as a signal to go ahead. Merlin waited a moment, as if unsure that’s what Arthur really wanted, but turned back toward the wood, and without saying a word, the wood ignited. Arthur only now realized that Merlin’s eyes had shined with gold as he lit the fire, and now was trying to recall whether or not he’d seen it happen before in his presence. “It feels strange.”

Arthur nearly laughed at how much of an understatement that was. “Yeah.” As Merlin turned away to gather supplies for food, Arthur decided to voice what he’d been thinking. “I thought I knew you.”

“I’m still the same person.” Merlin stated, as if that was remotely true, and maybe it was to him, but to Arthur, Merlin was completely different.   
“I trusted you.”

Merlin paused to look at Arthur, and then spoke a soft “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” And he was. Arthur was sorry because he wanted Merlin to trust him too, to be able to confide in his King and his friend, and Merlin hadn’t been able to do that. It made Arthur slightly guilty—to realize this betrayal was partly his fault because magic was outlawed, and it was Arthur who enforced it. He didn’t want to think about it, so instead he fixed his eyes on Merlin again, and watched as Merlin watched him back. Merlin’s seemed to be contemplating something for a moment before he set his jaw, stood up, and headed back to Arthur. To Arthur’s surprise, it was just to remove his boots. “What are you doing?”

Merlin just glanced at him and said “they need drying,” like it was the most obvious statement for him to make as he placed Arthur’s boots by the fire and moved across camp. Confusion made itself home in Arthur again as he stared at the boots because sorcerers didn’t remove someone else’s boots and dry them. Sorcerers didn’t humble themselves to serve others, they only served themselves, but here Merlin was, serving Arthur, doing everything he used to do despite his magic. It was to the sight of Merlin moving around the camp and the sound of crickets chirping that Arthur fell asleep. 

****  
He woke again early in the morning to the sight of the sunlight streaming through the trees. Upon noticing his awareness, Merlin made his way over with a small bowl of stew. “You need to eat.” Merlin placed his hand on the back of Arthur’s head to help him not choke, but Arthur couldn’t comprehend why on Earth Merlin would still be serving him breakfast. Sorcerers never served anything, but themselves. That’s what he’d always been taught. Magic was evil and everyone who practiced it was evil. Sorcerers were power hungry monsters with no morals who needed to be stopped, but even now Merlin—the greatest sorcerer in the world (?)—was not only serving Arthur breakfast but had been doing so for years. 

“Why are you doing this?” There was a small whine in his voice, from pain or frustration Arthur couldn’t say, but he saw Merlin pause a moment, withdraw the spoon from Arthur’s face and look away. “Why are you—still behaving like a servant?” Merlin looked back at his king but withdrew all contact—a fact that made Arthur’s heart hurt more than he was willing to admit. He’d always appreciated Merlin’s small signs of comfort, and he appreciated it now despite everything. Merlin was still silent, and as he moved the bowl from his knee to the ground, Arthur refused to look away. 

Merlin gathered himself as he thought of an answer. When he finally did, he leaned on his knee to say “it’s my destiny…as it has been since the day we first met.” Merlin’s voice was filled with pride, an interesting take on his role in Arthur’s life that left Arthur momentarily baffled but pleased. 

“I tried to take your head off with a mace.”

“And I stopped you…using magic.” For a moment, it felt like it did before Arthur had learned of   
Merlin’s magic 

“You cheated.”

Merlin gave a small chuckle “yeah. You were going to kill me.”

“I should have.” Arthur immediately hated himself in that moment. He watched Merlin’s face fall again. 

Another moment of silence before Merlin muttered “I’m glad you didn’t,” which only made Arthur scoff in response. To his surprise Merlin continued to talk. “I do this because of who you are. Without you, Camelot’s nothing.” It was stated as a fact, as if everything Arthur had done so far hadn’t resulted in his people’s suffering, but for a moment, the old Merlin was crouching in front of him. The Merlin who had convinced him to fight against Morgause’s undead army. The Merlin who had restored Arthur’s faith in himself after Morgana took the castle with Helios was crouched in front of him, not the one who had lied to and betrayed him. 

“There was a time when that was true. Not now. There are many who can fill the crown.” 

“Never be another like you, Arthur.” Arthur didn’t believe him. “I also do this… because you’re my friend and I don’t want to lose you.” He gently lifted Arthur’s head again, brought the food to Arthur’s lips, and with a small grunt, Arthur took a bite.

When Merlin was satisfied and Arthur’s breakfast was done, Merlin propped Arthur on a fallen tree and began to pack everything up. He had only been sitting for a few moments, but the pain was too gruesome. Against his will, Arthur began to slouch on the trunk and began to topple. “Arthur, you need to hold on…” Arthur could tell Merlin was on his way over to help him. “one more day.” Merlin sat gingerly next to Arthur, supported his weight by hooking their arms together, and gently dabbed the sweat from Arthur’s forehead. He was so gentle, gentler than Arthur had ever had the pleasure of noticing. His heart beat quickened at the comfort of someone so close to him. Despite his exhaustion, Arthur was upset because he cared for Merlin, more than he should, and it was clear that Merlin cared for Arthur. So why did Merlin never say anything? Why was it a secret?

“Why did you never tell me?” He had to know. 

“I wanted to, but…”

“What?”  
“You’d have chopped my head off.” It was said casually, with a hint of humor, but it pained Arthur to hear. This was Merlin—his Merlin—how could he possibly think that Arthur would’ve done that. But the truth is, Arthur had no clue what he actually would’ve done. Merlin helped him to a sip of water to try to keep his strength up before Arthur voiced his thoughts. 

“I’m not sure what I would’ve done.”

Merlin gave a small smile. “And I didn’t want to put you in that position.” The words hit Arthur somewhere in his chest because even though it was Merlin’s life that would’ve been on the line, Merlin was still trying to protect Arthur—trying to keep Arthur from making a decision that Merlin knew he’d have hated making. Despite his magic and his lies, Arthur realized that this was the same boy who’d saved him all those years ago. Merlin was still Merlin—the selfless, loyal and brave friend that had stood at his side without hesitation for all their years together. 

“That’s what worried you?”  
Merlin took a pause, contemplating his next words carefully. “Some men are born to plow fields… some live to be great physicians, others…to be great kings. Me? I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I’m proud of that. And I wouldn’t change a thing.” Merlin was so sincere that Arthur had no response. What could he say to that? Nothing that would be important. Instead he just stared at his servant—his friend—with a look he was sure was a mixture between admiration and disbelief, but there was nothing else to do. “Ready?” Merlin helped him off his feet and to his horse. 

****

They’d been riding for another couple of hours before Merlin gave the signal to stop. “Saxons?” Arthur asked because he was too weak to notice anything. Merlin hunched slightly, and his head went slightly side to side as if something fast was moving across his vision. A few seconds later he sat back up and huffed a sigh.

“They’re long gone.”

“How do you know?”

“I can…see the path ahead.” 

“So, you’re not an idiot. That was another lie.”

“No, it’s just another part of my charm.” Arthur realized something as Merlin chuckled. He was trying to make it easier to come to terms with. Merlin was trying to tell Arthur that it’s not any different, but no matter how much Arthur wanted that to be true, it wasn’t. 

They’d only been riding for a few more minutes when shouting and horses could be heard in the distance. “In there” Merlin said as he maneuvered them to a thick patch of trees and jumped off his horse. After helping Arthur down, they took refuge behind some trees. Merlin spotted a couple of Saxons through the trees and quickly used magic to cover their tracks and rustle some bushes to deter them. Arthur stood helplessly against a tree and watched. Arthur had watched how quickly Merlin had acted, how easy the diversion had been for him, and Arthur had realized it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. He was forced to think backwards to all their patrols and adventures. All the incidences that Arthur had just thought lucky and ignored—the tree branches knocking out enemies, rock falls and structure collapses allowing their escape, spears and swords killing enemies Arthur hadn’t even seen coming before they could harm him—It had all been Merlin, and he’d done it for Camelot. He’d done it for Arthur. 

“You’ve done this before.” Merlin just glanced back at him. “All these years, Merlin…You’ve never once sought any credit.”

“It’s not why I do it” he responded as he stared right at Arthur, willing him to understand. They had always been adept at silent conversations consisting of particular looks and expressions, and Merlin’s stare had been no exception. He’d done it for Arthur. He watched as Merlin paused again to check that they could continue. “Come on.” 

They rode for a few more hours, and the sky was starting to darken before Merlin noticed that Arthur was nearly falling off his horse. He was in so much pain. Merlin had pushed him up, but Arthur knew—he was dying. “I can’t go on.”

“There’s not far to go. We need to reach the lake before dawn.” 

“No, Merlin. No.”

“All right. We rest for an hour.” 

Merlin had set up a small camp again while they rested. Arthur had been thinking a lot about what to do with Merlin. It was hard to reconcile the sorcerer Merlin with the Merlin Arthur had thought he’d known. It wasn’t until Merlin took his spot next to Arthur that he finally realized that they were the same—that even though Arthur didn’t see it, sorcerer Merlin had been there all along. He was no different now than he was a week ago, and if he was dying, he might as well voice his thoughts.

“Merlin.” He tried to look at his servant, but when did his head become so heavy? “Whatever happens—”

“Shh. Don’t talk.”

“I’m the king, Merlin. You can’t tell me what to do.” There was his Merlin. Always insolent, never doing as he was told. It’s part of what made Arthur care for him so much.

“I always have. I’m not going to change now.” 

“I don’t want you to change.” As soon as the words registered with Merlin, Arthur could see the confusion and shock cross his friend’s face. “I want you to always…be you.” Merlin had always been himself--Arthur had just been a blind prat. Guilt swirled in his stomach as he thought about their years together. Why had he treated his most loyal and compassionate friend so horribly? Arthur muttered out a “I’m sorry about how I treated you” because he was. He was also very tired, and holding his head up was hard, so he stopped trying and it began to roll to the side. Merlin placed panicked hands on Arthur’s chest and neck to keep him awake. 

“Hey, does that mean—does that mean you’re gonna give me a day off?”

“Two.”

“That’s generous.” He watched Merlin give him a small smile, and his heart started fluttering oddly, but Arthur was too exhausted to contemplate it before he was falling back asleep. He was already asleep by the time Merlin caressed his face and muttered “get some sleep.”

He was shaken awake some time later, and Merlin was in his face saying “Arthur, we need to get moving.” He didn’t want to move he was still so tired. “Arthur! We’ve wasted enough time.” Arthur was helped to his feet and onto his horse as they headed towards Avalon. Shortly before dawn. Merlin stopped them again and helped Arthur down. He could see it in the distance. So close yet still so far, but if they hurried, they could make it. “Avalon. We’ll get there.” Merlin was hopeful, Arthur could tell. Of course, that’s when something spooked the horses so badly, they fled, and Merlin rose to his feet shouting after them. 

“Hello, Emrys.” Arthur supposed it was only a matter of time before she found them. She flung Merlin away without so much as a word, and Arthur instinctually reached for his sword, and regretfully realized he was left defenseless and weak. “What a joy it is to see you, Arthur. Look at you. Not so tall and mighty now. You may have won the battle, but you’ve lost the war. You’re going to die by Mordred’s hand. Don’t worry, dear brother, I won’t let you die alone. I’ll watch over you until the wolves gorge on your carcass and bathe in your blood.” 

“No,” Merlin said, with Arthur’s unsheathed sword in hand. “the time for all this bloodshed is over. I blame myself for what you’ve become. But this has to end.” 

“I’m a high priestess. No mortal blade can kill me.” She makes no move to defend herself or flee, so Merlin plunges the sword through her gut. Arthur watches a she cries in pain and her face morphs into confusion 

“This is no mortal blade. Like yours, it was forged in a dragon’s breath.” With one last twist of the blade Morgana falls to the forest floor—the last of her breath leaving her. “Goodbye, Morgana.” 

Arthur can’t look away, even as Merlin plants himself between her lifeless body and Arthur’s, slowly dying, body. “All right.” 

Only one thought comes to his head as Merlin slings Arthur’s arm over his shoulder. A small smile graces his lips. “Brought peace at last.”

“Come on.” They hobble through the trees as fast as possible, but Arthur can feel his life leaving him. “Come on. We have to make it to the lake.”

“Merlin…” They’re barely out of the trees before Merlin collapses under the weight. “not without the horses. We can’t it’s too late. It’s too…” Merlin was panting in his ear, holding Arthur in his arms from behind, a position that was strangely comforting despite it’s vulnerability. Arthur realized now, in the moments before his death, that if it had been anyone else who had confessed to the things Merlin had, Arthur would have executed them. He also realizes that he’s not thinking about Guinevere, or Camelot, or Morgana. He’s only thinking about how nice it feels in this position with Merlin, how comforting and safe Merlin’s arms around him are. He’s only aware of how blessed he is to be held by a man so devoted to him, who loves him so much that he would risk his life every day for him, and he realized that he may love Merlin too. “All your magic, Merlin, and you can’t save my life.”

“I can. I’m not going to lose you.” 

“Just—just—just hold me. Please. There’s—there’s something I want to say.” He had to say it now. He wouldn’t get another chance. 

“You’re not—you’re not going to say goodbye.”

“No…Merlin. Everything you’ve done… I know now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build.”

“You’d have done it without me.”

“Maybe. I want to say something I’ve never said to you before…” He had to say he loved him but looking at Merlin’s face—so stricken by grief and despair—he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Telling Merlin how much he loved him would only make his death harder to bear, and after everything Arthur’s put Merlin through, he couldn’t make Merlin endure that pain. So instead, Arthur said “Thank you.” He grasped Merlin’s head, trying to tell him it will be alright—that Merlin will survive without Arthur at his side. Exhaustion took him, and his eyes closed.


	2. The Aftermath

When Arthur’s eyes had closed, he’d thought he’d failed, but he wasn’t going to lose Arthur again. He gathered his strength, pulled all of his magic into his chest, and forced it into Arthur will all his might. Every healing spell he could think of flashed through his brain hoping to prolong what little life was left within his king until he could get him to the Sidhe. He felt Arthur’s pulse, smiling slightly to find it still there and a little stronger than he anticipated. A thought came to his mind—what could travel many leagues within seconds? He yelled to the sky, summoning the dragon to him, and when he landed, he bowed his head. “What do you need from me, young warlock?”

“I need you to take us to the Sidhe at the isle in the center of the lake. I need to save him.” Kilgharrah regarded him carefully. 

“I’m not a horse, Merlin.”

“Please, he will die.” For once the dragon was silent—a fact that made Merlin slightly nervous, but eventually, the dragon dropped his head into a nod and settled low to the ground. After a few minutes of struggling, Merlin had a strong grasp on his king and another on the dragon, and they were flying ever closer to the isle. It took a few moments to get there, but once they did, Merlin hauled Arthur down and laid him gently on the floor. “Thank you, old friend.”

The dragons voice was almost overwhelming in the silence of the early morning. “Of course, young warlock. It is always a pleasure to serve you.” With another nod, the dragon took off into the dawn. 

Once they were alone, Merlin glanced around. A stone table sat in the center of the stone pillar which rose into the sky. The small, wind-like voices of the Sidhe surrounded him---indecipherable at the speed at which they moved. With great effort, Merlin dragged Arthur to the table and hoisted him on top of it. When the king was secured, and Merlin had checked that he was still alive, he took a breath and slowed down time as he had done with the witch’s dagger the first time he’d saved Arthur’s life and when he’d followed Sophia and Ulfric to the lake. The small fluttering around him slowed, the blue faces of the Sidhe came into view, and the voices that were like a whisper became clear. 

“Who are you and what do you seek?”

“I am Merlin, and I seek your assistance. My friend, he’s been stabbed by a blade that was forged in a dragon’s breath. I ask you to save his life.” 

“And why should we help you? What is this human to us?”

“He is King Arthur of Camelot, the man who will unite the five kingdoms and rule over all of Albion. It is a destiny he cannot fulfill if he is dead. Please, whatever price needs to be paid, I will pay it.” 

“Such a strong promise for an insignificant man. Why should we hold you to your word?” 

For the first time, Merlin decided to use his name, the one the druids called him, hoping that it would command their respect in service. “I am Emrys. If I swear to something, I must adhere to it.”

The Sidhe’s eyes widen, looking almost comical on such a small creature. “Emrys. We have heard tales of you. Never have I thought we’d have the pleasure to convene with such a great sorcerer. You, like us, are a creature of the Old Religion, we must believe you when you say you will honor word. There will be a heavy price. It will lead you far from Camelot for some time. You are magic itself, and you cannot die, but you will find the price may strip you of all that you are, and you may not be able to find your way back.” Without another word, the Sidhe moved to Arthur’s body and began to rattle of spells faster than Merlin could keep up. All he could do was watch in amazement as the Sidhe went to work. Nothing could prepare him for the moment when Arthur’s head moved slightly, a deep breath leaving his lips. The movement, though small, was such a relief to see that Merlin couldn’t help the tears that slipped out of his eyes. Arthur was going to live. With a deep sigh, Merlin relaxed against the stone and waited. 

****

Arthur awoke again with a groan. He was on something soft, and he felt like he was floating, despite the fact that his body felt like lead. Another groan left his lips as he opened his eyes. Light blinded him momentarily, and it took him longer than normal to focus than it normally did when he woke up. When he finally managed to focus, he realized he was staring at the familiar sight of his bed canopy. Why was he here? What had happened? His brain was fuzzy and the last thing he remembered was the battle. Mordred’s angry face before he plunged his sword into Arthur’s stomach—falling to his knees before sinking his own sword up into Mordred’s chest. How did he get back to Camelot? Did they win? Another groan left his lips as he turned his head. He was greeted with a teary-eyed Gwen who gave him a small smile as their eyes met. “I’d thought we lost you.”

“Gwen?”

“Arthur.” She gave him another smile and tightened the grip she had on his hand. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“What happened, Gwen? The last thing I remember is killing Mordred. Did we win?” Arthur watched as her eyes widened and then glanced around the room like she didn’t want to answer. Before she got the chance to reply, the doors to Arthur’s chambers opened, and Gaius made his way inside.

“Oh Sire, it’s good to see you finally awake. How are you feeling?” 

“My body feels like lead, but other than that I feel okay?” 

“He’s been asking what happened.” Gwen said looking at Gaius. “Says he can’t remember anything past his confrontation with Mordred.” Arthur could tell by the tone in her voice that she was both nervous and concerned.

“Temporary amnesia. Perfectly natural after what he’s been through. His memory will return in time.”

“How much did I miss?” 

“You’ve missed quite a lot.” Gwen’s voice was soft, trying to make the news easier to bear. “The battle has been over for about a week. After the sorcerer on the hill turned the tide, the Saxons fled. The battle was won. Camelot is safe.” Arthur released a sigh of relief at that. His kingdom was safe. It was the news he’d been needing since he woken, and now that he knew for certain that his kingdom had survived Morgana’s attack, that his plan had been a success he was ready to go back to sleep. Gaius was beside him, checking his temperature with a steady yet gentle hand, and for a moment a memory flashed in his head—Gaius’ presence beside him, Merlin’s concerned voice, the forest floor beneath him. He was too exhausted to think about it. His eyes fought to close, and it was only with Gaius’ reassurance that it was okay to sleep that he finally gave into the darkness. 

****

He dreamed of the sorcerer on the ridge. The lightning he conjured taking out Saxons with ease. He dreams of the white dragon, swooping to kill his knights, only to be stopped by the sorcerer’s words. He dreamed of Morgana and Mordred—their determination to kill him and destroy his kingdom. He dreamed of Merlin, fire, and gold eyes. 

****

He woke with a start. Memories flooded him all at once. Merlin igniting the fire with a single look. The Saxons being flung backward with nothing more than a raise of Merlin’s hand. In a single moment, nearly all of Arthur’s memories rushed his head, leaving him breathless. Gwen was still at his bedside, asleep in a chair with her hand limply holding his. A small smile graced his lips as he watched her. His body wasn’t as numb as it had been when last he’d woken. He made to sit up, slowly maneuvering into a slightly sitting position. His side pulled uncomfortably, a reminder of his wound. He gingerly lifted up his shirt to inspect his wound. It was wrapped tightly, a symbol of Gaius’ fine work, but it was a significantly smaller radius than he anticipated. He glanced back at the queen who still remained asleep despite all of Arthur’s wiggling. As he settled against the pillows, he began to recall what had happened in the last couple of days. He remembers Merlin taking him to Avalon, remembers Merlin killing Morgana. He remembers Merlin crumbling beneath Arthur’s weight, and Arthur telling him not to change. He recalls the feelings that nearly dying had stirred in Arthur’s chest. 

The doors opened again, and Leon appeared in the doorway. “Sire, you’re awake.”   
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gwen jolt awake and scan the room before relaxing at the sight of Leon in the doorway.

“Leon, it’s good to see you.” And it was. Arthur was glad to see Leon after everything that had happened. “Glad to see you still in one piece.”

“The feeling is mutual, Sire. We’ve been concerned about you since your disappearance form the battlefield. We were running ourselves ragged searching for you.” 

“Didn’t Gaius tell you where I was going and who I was with?”

Leon looked shocked that Arthur remembered. Apparently, people had been told about his momentary memory loss. “He did, Sire. Although there was still over a day before he’d returned with that information.”

“Well, I’m glad to know that my knights are so diligent.” With this, Gwen stood from her chair. 

“Since you’re awake and you seem to be feeling much better, I’ll go alert Gaius. He should have a look at you while you’re still coherent.” She gave a small smile and a nod to Arthur before making her way to the door. “Please watch after our king, Leon, while I fetch Gaius.”

“Of course, my lady. I’ll take good care of him.” Leon gave a small nod to Gwen as she disappeared out the door. 

“Please, Leon, take a seat.”

It took Leon a second to register his words, but with a grateful smile, he placed himself where Gwen had been moments before. “Thank you, my lord.” 

“I have some questions, and I think you’d find it harder to lie to me than my wife would. So, please indulge me, and answer honestly.” Leon looked slightly fearful, but he nodded his head all the same. “How did I get here? The last thing I remember is my conversation with Merlin after he collapsed while carrying me. I thought I was dead. Why am I still alive?”

“Well, Sire, there’s a lot of the story that I’m missing. You’ll have to ask Merlin about most of that.” He almost looked unsure as he said Merlin’s name, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d react. “All that I can say is that five days after the battle, Merlin showed up on a horse with you in his arms. He was muddy and exhausted, but he helped us bring you to your chambers. All he’d said was that it may take a couple of days for you to wake up, but that you would be fine. Gaius came in to check on you, and you’ve been asleep ever since--well, until you woke up briefly yesterday.” 

“Where is Merlin?” Leon averted his eyes. “Leon, where is he?” 

“He hasn’t been seen since he brought you back. Even Gaius doesn’t know where he is. We’ve been looking for him for a couple of days, but it seems he doesn’t want to be found.”

“What do you mean you can’t find him.” 

“We’ve searched everywhere. I’ve sent knights throughout the whole kingdom. No one’s seen him.” 

Arthur heaved out a sigh. Where is his idiot servant now?

****

Merlin was sitting under a tree, knees pulled up to his chest and arms draped on top as a place for his head to rest. He could hear the subtle sounds of Ealdor in the distance. Once he’d returned Arthur, he needed a break. He’d nearly lost Arthur again, and this time Merlin couldn’t be there when he woke up. Arthur had told him not to change, had seemed to accept him, but he was dying at the time. Who knows what he’d think of Merlin’s magic now? He was in his right mind now, would have no delirium from pain to keep him from making a well thought out decision about what to do with Merlin. The fear of that decision, the fear that Arthur would reject him now, was what had caused him to flee the city. He’d spent a lot of his time thinking of Arthur while on his journey to Ealdor. Merlin hoped he was alright, after all the Sidhe said that he may have memory problems when he awoke. Near death was apparently hard on the brain. 

There were soft footsteps behind him, and he knew immediately that his mother had come to find him. He turned his head to greet her. She gave him a small smile, a hint of sadness beneath it. “Merlin, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m appreciating the forest.”

“What are you doing in Ealdor, Merlin? Why aren’t you with Arthur?”

Merlin smiled a little at the fact that his mother knew him so well. “I was. He was dying and I took him to Lake Avalon so that the Sidhe could save him.”

Merlin could tell by the confused look on Hunith’s face that she wasn’t quite sure why he was saying this, and that she was trying to come up with a response. “He didn’t make it?” 

“No, he did. He’s back in Camelot now. Gaius is seeing to his recovery.” 

“Then I reiterate my question. Why aren’t you with him?” 

“I thought he was going to die, so I told him about my magic. I needed him to know.”

“He didn’t accept you.”

“I’m not sure. When he was dying in my arms, he said he didn’t want me to change, but…” Hunith placed a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder, a silent notion to continue. “Now that he’s not dying, now that he really has the capacity to think everything through—I’m afraid he won’t accept me now, and I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t stand to hear that after nearly losing him.” There were tears in his eyes again. 

“Merlin, you can’t hide here forever. Don’t get me wrong I love seeing you here, but you belong in Camelot. You’ll never know how he feels if you don’t go back.” Merlin turned his head again, staring into the forest. “No matter what happens, Merlin, you will always have a home here.” With another small smile, Hunith left. Merlin huffed a sigh--his mother knew him too well. He’d begin his journey back to Camelot in the morning. 

****

It has been three days since Sir Leon had visited and told Arthur that Merlin was missing, and for the first time since he woke, Arthur was wandering the castle. Gaius had forbidden him from going back to training, since the wound was still healing and the near-death experience left him weaker than normal, but Arthur could go back to his regular kingly duties. He was currently in the council chambers, council members and knights sitting at the round table. It was hard to pay attention to what was being said. Merlin was missing and the council members were droning on about something unimportant, so Arthur couldn’t stand to listen. George had been tending to him, and the hole left by Merlin’s absence was only more noticeable with the addition of George’s silence. Arthur missed him. Merlin leaving had been an unanticipated blow that left Arthur feeling lonelier than ever. The older council man who was speaking was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the doors and the hurried knight who opened them beginning to speak. “Sire, I beg your pardon for the interruption, but your servant has just ridden into the citadel. He’s asked to see you.” The news set Arthur’s heart aflutter, and Arthur’s mood increased ten-fold. 

"Thank you, Sir Broven. I’ll see him immediately.” Arthur turned to the council. “This meeting is now dismissed.” Before anyone could protest, Arthur was exiting out the council chamber and headed toward his chamber. “Sir Broven, please alert Merlin that I will speak with him in my chamber and alert everyone else that we are not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary.” Sir Broven gave a small bow and turned to follow Arthur’s orders. 

Arthur was pacing by the time there was a soft knock on his chamber door. “Come in.” Merlin stepped quietly through the door, keeping his eyes on the ground. He shuffled inside just far enough to close the door behind him, but he stayed there—eyes still on the floor. It was so unlike him that it made Arthur’s heart ache. Merlin’s body language gave Arthur everything he needed to know. Merlin was terrified. Why he was terrified, Arthur didn’t know, but in that moment it didn’t matter. Arthur was just so happy to see him that he didn’t realize that he enveloped Merlin in a hug until Merlin’s hesitant arms circled him in return. “Where have you been?”

Merlin forced himself out of Arthur’s grip. “I was in Ealdor.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know if you’d want me around after…” Merlin trailed off, too afraid to finish the sentence. 

“After I learned you had magic?” The directness made Merlin flinch slightly.

“Well, yeah.”

“Merlin, I meant what I said. I don’t want you to change.” At that, Merlin’s head shot up, and for the first time he looked Arthur in the eye. Hope had found a home on his face.

“Really, Merlin? Do you think so little of me that I’d change my mind?”

“It’s not that. It’s just that…I didn’t know if you’d actually think the same thing when you weren’t dying.”

“We have a lot to work through, Merlin, but believe me when I say that you’re safe here.” Much to Arthur’s surprise, Merlin’s arms wrapped around him again, and Arthur could only think about how right it felt, to hold Merlin like this. His heart fluttered again, a feeling he didn’t know how to process, so he didn’t. He just wrapped his arms around Merlin again. After a rather lengthy embrace, Merlin pulled away again. 

“I’m glad to see you’re well, Sire. I’ll leave you to your duties.”

“Merlin, don’t leave. We need to talk.”

“Now?” Merlin said it with a whine. 

“Yes, now.” Arthur gestured to one of the seats at his table and watched as Merlin looked shocked for a moment before flashing Arthur a sheepish smile and taking a seat. Instead of taking a seat beside him, Arthur began to pace. “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days. I’ve been trying to sort out everything. I’d like you to help me.” He turned to Merlin. “I need you to be honest with me.” Merlin nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Most of the little things I can link with you—tree branches landing on bandits, spears seeming to come from nowhere, fires flaring out of nowhere to help our escapes—those were you weren’t they?” 

A slightly sheepish look crossed Merlin’s face. “Yes, my lord.” 

“All those times Gaius seemed to cure fatal magical illnesses wasn’t Gaius at all were they?”

“No.”

“The griffin Lancelot killed—you helped him didn’t you?”

“It could only be killed by magic. It was Lancelot that killed it with the lance, but I infused it with magic.” 

“The dragon?”

“That’s a long story, my lord, I’m not sure we have the time for it.”

“We have time.”

Merlin huffed a sigh. “Alright. There’s a lot to it.” He launched into his tale. He talked about all the help the Great Dragon had given him—all the times Merlin had sought his aid to protect Arthur from evils Arthur hadn’t even known about. He talked about their bargain, and how he had to release the dragon. Arthur watched him tell his story, watched as guilt and shame and anguish crossed his face as he talked about the damage the dragon had wrought. It was clearly a decision he deeply regretted. As he got to the part of Balinor’s death, Merlin paused and gathered a breath. “You kept asking why I was upset—that whole trip you kept wondering.” Arthur nodded his head at the memory. His normally cheerful servant had been uncharacteristically quiet and solemn, seemingly lost in his head. It had made the journey slightly unbearable. “The reason why is because of something Gaius had told me before we left. He had told me about how he’d smuggled Balinor out of the citadel to protect him, and he’d sent him to a small village outside of Camelot to live with a woman.” Arthur had a gut feeling about where this was going, and it made him feel slightly sick. “He went to Ealdor. My mother had taken him in, and they were happy for a while before Uther hunted him down and forced him to flee. He did it to protect her, but he never knew. She never had a chance to tell him about their son. Gaius told me I was his son—told me to keep it secret for a son of a dragonlord was to be regarded with great suspicion. I had to keep it from you.” It all made so much sense to Arthur, why Merlin had reacted to Balinor’s death the way he had. “Before he died, my father told me about the dragonlords and their relationships with the dragons, and he told me how it is a gift that is passed from father to son. Once he was dead, his gift passed to me. When Kilgharrah had knocked you out, I was able to command to stop his assault and never return to Camelot. He had no choice but to obey.” 

“So, he’s still alive?”

“As far as I’m aware. He was actually how I got you to the lake in time.”

“Really?” 

“Yes.” 

The sun had been down for a while now, and it was getting late. All the information Arthur had just received was making his head spin and, though he didn’t want to admit it, it was also making him slightly uncomfortable. “Come now, Merlin. You can get me ready for bed.” Merlin gave a sigh of relief and rose to his feet to help his king. 

A few minutes later, Merlin had finished preparing Arthur for bed and was heading back towards Gaius’ chambers when he nearly ran over Gwen as he turned a corner. “Merlin!”

“Good evening, my lady.”

“Oh please, none of that.” She gave him a friendly smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Gwen.”

“We’ve missed you around here lately. Where did you run off to?” 

“I, uh, went to visit my mother.”

“You ran off so quickly I never did get to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For helping win the battle, for helping defeat Morgana, for bringing Arthur back to me.”

“I think you misunderstand. That wasn’t me, that was the sorcerer.”

“Merlin, please. Gaius told me.” Merlin’s eyes widened. “I know it was you who did all that. I owe you the deepest gratitude.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

“Yes it is. You’ve been protecting Arthur for years. You’ve been protecting Camelot for years all by yourself and gotten no credit. A thank you is the least you deserve.” She wrapped him tightly in her arms. “Thank you, for everything.”

“It’s my pleasure, my lady. He is my king.” She placed a hand on his arm, gave him another smile, before stepping around him to head towards the chambers. 

Just before she entered, she turned to Merlin once again. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

“Goodnight, my lady.” A few seconds later the doors were closing behind her, and Merlin was heading towards Gaius’ chambers.


	3. Semblance of Normalcy

Before he even had a handle on the old wooden door’s handle, it swung open unexpectedly, and Merlin came face to face with Gaius. He smiled at the old man—the man who had been his surrogate father for so many years—and gathered him into a hug. They stood in the doorway for an indeterminable amount of time, before Gaius pulled back to hold Merlin at arms-length. He gave Merlin another smile before cuffing him on the back of his head. “Never disappear like that again. What were you thinking, running off like that?”

“I’m sorry, Gaius. I just didn’t know if Arthur would want me around, and I wasn’t prepared to face it if he didn’t.”

“And does he?”

“Does he what?”

“Want you around?”

“As of right now, yes, but who knows what he’ll say when he finds out about the various acts of treason I’ve committed under his nose.”

“You give him too little credit, Merlin. He may be Uther’s son, but he’s always had Ygraine’s heart.” With that, Gaius stepped aside and allowed Merlin into the comfort of their chambers. What Merlin did not expect was to find Gwaine in the bed, pale and barely breathing. 

“What happened, Gaius?”

“He and Percival decided to try to take Morgana on by themselves—an idiotic thing to do if you ask me. It’s how she found out you were taking Arthur to Avalon. She used the Nethair on him. Percival got him back to me just in time.”

“He’ll be okay, though, right, Gaius?” 

“I expect so. The whole thing took a lot out of him, he hasn’t woken at all since he’s been here. It may take him a couple of days, but I see his strength returning a little more every day.” Merlin released a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding.   
“It’s getting late, Merlin. Perhaps you’d like some supper?”

“That’d be great, Gaius. Thank you.” 

They sat eating in companionable silence for a few minutes before Gaius spoke again. “How did you manage it?”

“Manage what?”

“Saving Arthur. He was not long for this world when I was out there, and I can only assume it got worse over the course of the journey.”

“I almost failed. After Morgana had scared the horses away, I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it. Arthur was practically dead in my arms, so I filtered all of the healing magic I knew of into him and called Kilgharrah. He took us to the island just in time.”

“And the price of saving Arthur?”

“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. The Sidhe were extremely vague, said I’d find myself far from Camelot, that the price may strip me of my will.” Merlin shrugged, took another bite of his stew, then continued. “What do you think it means?”

“I have no idea, but it doesn’t sound good.” Before either could continue, a small groan left the man across the room. Merlin was up in a flash, making his way over the knight on the bed. 

“Gwaine? Gwaine, can you hear me?” Another groan left his lips as he shifted slightly in the sheets. He stilled again.

“It’s progress, Merlin. He’ll wake soon.” Merlin felt relieved that his friend would pull through. 

“It’s late, Gaius. You go on to bed. I’ll watch over him tonight.”

“Are you sure, Merlin? You must be exhausted after a long day of travel.”

“I’m not sure I could sleep even if I wanted to.” 

Gaius stared at Merlin with that ‘are you absolutely sure about this’ look before giving in. “Alright, Merlin, I’ll see you in the morning then.” Merlin gave a small nod as he turned back to his friend. 

A few hours later, an hour or two before dawn, Gwaine stirred again causing Merlin’s head to snap up from the spell book he was reading. He shut the book with a loud snap and flung it across the room just in time for Gwaine’s head to turn to face him. “Gwaine, can you hear me. It’s Merlin.”

“Yes, Merlin, I can hear you perfectly. Now please stop shouting.”

“I’m not shouting, Gwaine.”

“Ah, well, must have drank an extra tankard of mead last night. How long have I been out?”

“You’re not drunk, Gwaine. According to Gaius, you’ve been out for about two weeks.” At Gwaine’s clear confusion, Merlin continued. “You and Percival tried to kill Morgana all by yourselves.”

“Oh yes, it’s all coming back to me. Our swords couldn’t kill her. She knocked us out, tied us up.” Merlin paused Gwaine to provide him with some water and then nodded at Gwaine to continue. “She pulled out this snake thing. Said it was some kind of magic torture snake or something—the same one she used on Elyan when she invaded with Helios.”

“The Nethair. It almost killed you, you stupid idiot. What made you and Percival think you could possibly take on a High Priestess by yourselves?”

“She deserved to die for everything she’s done, and we thought we could catch her off guard.” Merlin smiled in understanding. “What happened with her, anyway?”

It was nearly impossible, how much quieter Merlin’s voice got. “She’s dead.”

“I thought it was impossible to kill her?”

“Not impossible. We just needed the right weapon.”

“Oh yeah? And what weapon was that?”

“A sword forged in a dragon’s breath.”

Gwaine’s eyes widened comically. “Where on Earth does one get a weapon like that?”

At this point, Merlin knew he had a choice to make. He could tell Gwaine his secret, or he could lie. He was tired of lying—tired of hiding—and Gwaine was his best friend. He deserved to know. “You know the sword Arthur pulled from the stone? That sword was burnished in dragon fire many years ago.” Gwaine remained looking at Merlin, sensing that there was more to the story. “Shortly after I came to Camelot, the sorceress Nimueh summoned a wraith to kill Uther, but Arthur was going to fight him. There was no way Arthur could kill him, and I couldn’t let Arthur die. I asked Gwen for her father’s best sword and took it to the Great Dragon. He burnished it for me.” Gwaine just stared for a moment, blinking up at Merlin from his spot on the bed. 

“Okay, but how did you know that would work? How did you even know the dragon would help, or where he even was?”

Merlin took a deep breath, steeling himself. “He called to me, when I first arrived in Camelot. One creature of magic calling to another.” Gwaine stilled, and his eyes widened again. Merlin could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

“You have magic?”

“I was born with it.” Gwaine was silent for a minute, just staring, and Merlin was shifting anxiously in the chair he’d pulled up next to Gwaine. 

“It’s about bloody time, mate. I thought you’d never tell me.” 

This time it was Merlin’s eyes that widened. “You knew?” 

“I wasn’t sure, but there were way too many coincidences that couldn’t be explained by anything other than magic, and unlike Arthur, I’ve spent a lot of my life roaming areas where magic was allowed. I know what magic looks like.” Gwaine grasped Merlin’s hand. “I understand why you didn’t say anything, Merlin. I’m not angry with you. I knew you’d tell me when the time was right.” When Gwaine’s mini speech was done, Merlin was on the verge of tears. He’d been expecting Gwaine’s reaction to be similar to what Arthur’s had been, but to be accepted with almost no struggle was never something Merlin thought would happen. He leaned over Gwaine, giving the man as big a hug as possible in their current position. When they broke apart, there was a faint light coming from the window, and Merlin knew he’d have to wake Arthur soon. No use even trying to sleep at this point, but he could tell Gwaine was still not back to full strength.

“You can go back to sleep, Gwaine. I can tell you’re exhausted, and we’ve got to get you back to training as soon as possible. I’ll be here until Gaius awakes.” Gwaine gave a grateful smile and squeezed Merlin’s hand before immediately falling limp as he gave into exhaustion. When he was sure Gwaine was asleep, Merlin stood up and began to make breakfast, a small smile on his face. 

****

For the next couple of weeks, the kingdom flourished. It seemed that, for once, there was no evil thing lurking in the shadows waiting to destroy everything Arthur had built. The people were happy and healthy, and the whole kingdom seemed to release a sigh of relief once Arthur had announced the official death of Morgana. With the news of her death, everything seemed to relax. Arthur returned to training shortly after Merlin’s return and was, a few days after that, joined by a still weak but smiling Gwaine. With all the knights together with their king, it seemed like nothing bad could happen. Perhaps they should’ve known better than to expect that happiness to last.

It began as something small. About two weeks after he returned to training, Arthur’s nightmares began. They started with just a small feeling of unease. He’d be startled awake in the middle of the night, no memory of the dream, but an unsettling feeling sitting somewhere behind his breastbone. Some of the time, he could fall back asleep without too much trouble, but most of the time, the feeling would make him feel so sick he would have no choice but to remove himself from his bed and work on anything that could distract him, a challenging feat in the peace that had settled over the kingdom. Merlin would find him in the morning, usually half asleep at his desk, reading some type of paperwork or pouring over any book he could get his hands on at such an hour.

Arthur knew that when Merlin wanted to ask about it, but ever since their conversation when Merlin returned, his servant had seemed to be walking on eggshells with Arthur as if he were afraid that one wrong move or word would end with his banishment or execution. It made Arthur feel slightly guilty, but Arthur needed time to really come to terms with everything he’d learned since being rescued from the Camlann battlefield. Instead of asking why Arthur was up before the sunrise, Merlin would simply look at Arthur with obvious concern for a few moments before turning to get breakfast for him. 

It was like that for a week. The dreams Arthur couldn’t remember would wake him before dawn, and he would toss a turn for a few minutes before heaving himself to his desk to work on anything. Merlin would find him and would simply tend to his duties in uncharacteristic silence. It was even more unsettling than whatever dream had woken him. Gwen could tell something was off with Arthur himself and between the both of them, but neither would speak about it when asked. It made everything far more difficult. Over the course of the week, Arthur was sleeping less and working more, and Merlin was subtly hovering in case Arthur decided to break whatever wall had gone up between them to talk about it. Arthur knew he was hovering, could tell Merlin was concerned for his well-being, but he was stubborn and refused to break—no matter how much he wanted his friend’s counsel. 

Not talking about it seemed to be making worse. It was just after a week when the nightmares became more prominent, etching themselves into Arthur’s mind long after he’d awoken. He’d awake screaming—sometimes crying, though he’d never admit it to anyone. It got so bad; Gwen had to sleep in separate chambers. The queen did her best to help, but no matter what she tried, she could not calm him. When the bags under her eyes had become almost as prominent as the ones under Arthur’s, Merlin had suggested that they sleep separately to both help her sleep through the night and to ease Arthur’s guilt about how much sleep she was losing. 

Merlin was in the middle of moving Gwen’s things into her separate chambers when she appeared out of nowhere and fell in step with him. “Merlin” she gave him one of her shy smiles. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, my lady. How are you?”

“I’m doing okay, Merlin, considering…” she trailed off, almost as if she was afraid to speak about it. Merlin knew her well enough to understand she was. Most of the kingdom had heard about Arthur’s issues. It was hard to keep such a secret when the guards and servants wandering the halls could hear his screaming when they passed his room in the night. “I feel bad leaving him alone, Merlin. I know it’s better for both of us at this point, but I hate the fact that I’m unable to help him.” 

Merlin pushed the door open to Gwen’s chambers as he responded. “Yeah, I know. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself, Gwen. You’ve tried everything you could for him.” Merlin had just put the bedclothes he’d been carrying down on the unmade bed for one of the handmaidens to deal with later when Gwen’s hand rested on his arm and turned him to face her. 

“Merlin, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and I know you don’t want to talk about it, but if anyone can help Arthur it will be you.”

“Gwen, if you’re suggesting I use magic…”

“That’s not what I mean, Merlin.” She paused then, picking her words carefully. “You and Arthur have always been very close, closer than any servant has ever been with a prince or king, and I’d have to be an idiot not to have noticed how you really feel about him.” Merlin couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face at her gentle smile. “He needs you whether he wants to admit it or not. You are his closest friend, and he’ll get over the magic thing soon, I know it, but he needs you right now—perhaps more than he’s ever needed you before. You’ve always understood him better than everyone else, better than he knows himself, and whatever he’s dreaming about is scaring him more than he wants to admit. He won’t talk to me or Gaius or any of his closest knights. If he’s gonna talk to anyone, it’ll be you.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Gwen. I’m afraid telling him I’m a sorcerer is something he won’t get over. I feel it’s too much for him to handle.”

“I can’t possibly understand what’s going through his head right now, Merlin, but please help him.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You’ll figure it out, Merlin. I know you will.” She gave him a smile and a dismissal, and Merlin left feeling even worse than he had before.

****

That night, Merlin was running some late-night errands for Gaius when he heard Arthur’s screaming from down the hall. With no hesitation, he sprinted down the hall and wrenched open the doors. Arthur was thrashing around the bed, blood curdling screaming come from his mouth, despite the fact that he was still fast asleep. Throwing the door closed, Merlin made his way over to Arthur. He grabbed Arthur’s shoulders, using all of his strength to keep Arthur’s arms from knocking his teeth out. “Arthur! Arthur!” Though his screaming had stopped, Merlin’s gentle shaking didn’t seem to be doing anything to rouse the dreaming man whose legs were still flailing wildly around the bed. Acting quickly, Merlin climbed on top of the bed, straddling Arthur’s legs to hold them down. He began his shaking again, almost violently this time. “Arthur! Come on, Dollophead, you need to wake up!” With a startled gasp, Arthur woke—immediately sitting up and nearly knocking out Merlin’s teeth out with his forehead, and it was only because Merlin managed to sit up that his front teeth remained securely in his jaw. “Arthur?”

Arthur’s quickened breaths began to slow, though there was still perspiration on his forehead and faint tear tracks down his face. It took him a second or two to slow his breathing back to something that could be considered normal, and once he did his eyes settled on Merlin. “Merlin?”

“Hey, dollophead, you with me?”

“What are you doing here? What time is it?”

“There’s still a few hours until dawn, sire.” Arthur huffed an exhausted sigh as he fell back down onto the bed. It seemed at that moment, both Merlin and Arthur seemed to notice where Merlin was sitting. Merlin blushed quickly before scrambling off of Arthur and dumping himself unceremoniously on the floor. 

“Merlin, what are you doing in here?” Slowly, and with a blush on his face, Merlin rose to his feet.

“You were having another nightmare, sire. I had to wake you.” 

“Oh.” Arthur ran a hand over his face, clearly exhausted. “That’ll be all, Merlin. Thank you.”

“My lord?”

“You can leave now, Merlin.”

Merlin hesitated. Clearly Gwen was right—if Arthur keeps refusing to talk about these dreams he will burn himself out, and a kingdom with an exhausted king is a kingdom susceptible to attack. Arthur clearly didn’t want him around—he was too proud to let anyone, even Merlin, see him in this state, so he was pushing people away. Merlin turned toward the door and only managed to take a couple of steps before he froze in place. Damn Uther for making Arthur feel the need to push those who care for him away. “Merlin.” It was that tone Arthur used when he was tampering his rage. “I said to leave.”

Merlin set his jaw, squared his shoulder, rose to his full height, and turned back toward the bed. “No.”

“No?” Arthur slowly rose back into a sitting position, an incredulous look on his face.

“You feel vulnerable and you don’t know how to deal with the events that are making you feel that way, and you’re too proud to want to be seen like this, so you push the people who care about you away.” Arthur’s anger made itself visible in his face and the way his hands were twitching slightly like they were trying to find something to throw at him indicated to Merlin exactly how angry Arthur was becoming at Merlin’s disobedience. “But I’m your friend, and I won’t let you push me away, no matter how much you may hate me right now.”

“I don’t want help from my servant, Merlin. Leave now.” 

“No, Arthur, I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” Arthur crossed his arms across his chest, making look even more like a petulant child. “I’ve tended to you when you were sick or injured, protected you from harm whenever I could, saved your live dozens of times, and stood by your side for over a decade. I pulled your nearly lifeless body from the field at Camlann and sacrificed everything to get you to Avalon and save your royal life. I will NOT let you kill yourself like this just because you’re a stubborn ass who won’t ask for help.” He planted himself firmly at the foot of Arthur’s bed—out of reach of Arthur’s arm in case he decided to throw a punch. “You can hit me, kick me, throw things at me all you like, but I won’t leave until you talk to me.” Arthur turned his head toward the window and pursed his lips. In a softer voice, Merlin continued. “I know I’m only your servant, and I know you’re not comfortable with my magic yet, but please, Arthur, for your sake and for Camelot’s sake, let me help you.” 

A long pregnant pause hung in the air before Arthur released all the tension in his shoulders, and his body sagged with exhaustion. “I just want to sleep, Merlin, but I can’t. The nightmares won’t go away.”

“Tell me about them. Maybe I can help.”

“When it first started, I couldn’t even remember the dream. I’d just wake up feeling like there was something sitting on my chest, but then last week they got worse.” Arthur hesitated and refused to meet Merlin’s eye. “Usually they’re just of people who’ve betrayed me. Mostly Morgana, but sometimes is Agravaine.” His jaw clenched with that sentence, and Merlin knew how hard those particular betrayals had been on Arthur despite how well he had tried to cover up what they did to him. “Mostly it’s them attacking me, but I’m unable to move anything. I just have to sit there while slowly kill me.” Throughout his story, Merlin had found himself moving slowly closer to Arthur. He placed a comforting hand on Arthur’s shin. The touch startled Arthur out of whatever deep thought he’d been thinking. He glanced at Merlin for a second before he swung his feet carefully out of the bed and sat next to Merlin. It was as Arthur continued that Merlin realized the king had pressed himself up against him—shoulder to ankles touching. “On rare occasions it’s my father who’s hurting me, and usually he’s expressing how disappointed he is in how I’ve ruled his kingdom as he does it.” Arthur swallowed hard at that, and though his head was hanging, and he was staring at his lap, Merlin, whose gaze never left Arthur’s face, could tell Arthur was trying to swallow down tears. There was another long pause, the type that told Merlin that there was something else the Arthur didn’t want to say. 

“What was it tonight?” Arthur’s head whipped up at that, like he was surprised that Merlin could tell that Arthur wasn’t saying something—that tonight was different than all the others. Arthur just stared at him; the question clear on his face. “You’ve screamed a little throughout the last week, but tonight was different. You wouldn’t stop screaming, It took me five minutes just to shake you awake when Gwen had been able to rouse you relatively easy the past couple of times. I figured tonight must have been something even worse.” Merlin just shrugged at the end, hoping that the explanation would be enough. Arthur just shook his head slowly and went back to staring at his hands in his lap.

“Tonight…it was you.” Arthur almost whispered it.

“Me? Killing you?”

“No.” Merlin watched as Arthur closed his eyes a took a deep breath. Clearly whatever he was going to say was not going to be easy. His hands fiddled in his lap a bit, something Merlin had never seen him do before in all his years as Arthur’s servant. Whatever Arthur had dreamed, Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it if it was making the normally composed king so anxious. “You were tied to the pyre, Merlin.” Arthur slowly moved his eyes to meet Merlin’s. “You were on the pyre, and they wouldn’t cut you down. No matter what I ordered, they wouldn’t listen.” Merlin was quiet, his eyes never leaving the glistening ones of his king. “I watched you burn, and I couldn’t stop it.” Merlin was speechless—giving Arthur time to look away and continue. “I was your friend, your King, and I was helpless. I couldn’t protect you.” 

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s hands, to both ground and comfort. “Look at me. Arthur, look at me.” Ever so slowly, Arthur raised his head to meet Merlin’s gaze. “I’m alive. I’m fine. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Arthur looked down again, though his face was still facing Merlin. Something powerful tugged in Merlin’s chest at seeing Arthur so distraught, though it was slightly comforting to know that this dream confirmed that Arthur did not want him dead, despite how little they’ve actually talked about Merlin’s secret and how the knowledge of Merlin’s magic had drove a wedge between them that didn’t seem to be close to disappearing anytime soon. A quick burst of concern and courage caused Merlin to gently grasp the sides of Arthur’s face, thumbs resting on his cheekbones. In a way that mimicked that day in the woods after Camlann when Merlin had grasped at his king’s wrist in an effort to comfort himself, Arthur gently grabbed Merlin’s wrists, fingers gently resting against Merlin’s pulse, as if he needed to feel that Merlin’s heart was still pumping. “I don’t need you to protect me, Arthur. I can protect myself.” Arthur nodded, though he was clearly unconvinced, and Merlin knew that Arthur was a protector at heart, and that even if Merlin didn’t need protecting, Arthur would still consider himself Merlin’s protector. They locked eyes again for what seemed like years. There was something holding them here—Merlin’s hands gently caressing Arthur’s face, and Arthur’s fingers gently stroking the soft skin of Merlin’s inner wrist.  
A time that was both far too short and far too long later, with a quick glance at Arthur’s lips, Merlin let go with a sigh. “You lay back down, Sire. I’ll go make you a sleeping draught and bring it back to you.” Arthur just stared for a moment longer with a look on his face that suggested that whatever moment the two of them had just shared is a moment he didn’t want to end either. He didn’t seem to want to move, clearly terrified at what falling asleep would bring. “Go on, cabbage head, lay down. I’ll be back before you know it.” Arthur grumbled something, but the small smile on his lips as he moved to lay back down suggested that he was feeling slightly better. 

Merlin made his way back to the door, once he was satisfied that Arthur was doing as he was told, but before he could make his way out of the chambers, Arthur’s voice stopped him. “Merlin?” It was a soft command to turn around. Whatever Arthur wanted to say, he wanted Merlin to face him, so Merlin turned back around—one foot already in the hallway. “Thank you.” A small smile took over Merlin’s face as he bowed his head and left the room.

A short while later, Merlin returned, sleeping draught in hand. Arthur was still awake and was facing the door like he was waiting for Merlin to return. Merlin watched Arthur’s body relax underneath the blankets as they locked eyes across the room. “I brought you the sleeping draught, Sire.” Arthur watched him for a moment before sitting up on an elbow and taking the potion from Merlin’s hand. He swallowed it in one swift gulp and handed the vial back to Merlin. It didn’t take long for it to work, for less than a minute later, Arthur was flopping back down against his mattress—eyes already beginning to droop with sleep. Merlin watched as his eyes fell closed, and as soon as they did, he turned to leave. 

He hadn’t even made it a step before Arthur’s hand wrapped around his wrist. It was a loose hold, one Merlin could easily slip out of, but something in the way Arthur was holding it kept Merlin from doing so. Instead, he just turned back to the bed. Arthur’s eyes were still closed, and for a moment, Merlin thought he’d already fallen asleep, but a few seconds later, Arthur’s head turned toward him, and with great effort, his eyes opened. “Stay.”

“I’ll just be right outside should you need me, Sire.”

“No, Merlin. In here. Please stay in here.” Merlin glanced around the room, looking for anything that could be remotely comfortable for him to sleep on. When he saw nothing that would allow himself to not only sleep comfortably, but wake up free from any aches and pains, he made to refuse. He turned to say as much but the slightly terrified look in Arthur’s eyes stopped the refusal in his throat. 

“Okay. I’ll stay. Let me just grab one of the chairs.” Arthur immediately released the hold he had on Merlin’s wrist before releasing a sigh and shutting his eyes once again. Merlin pulled a chair over to the side of Arthur’s bed. Guess this will have to do he thought to himself as he took a seat. Mere minutes later, Arthur was gently snoring next to him, and Merlin’s eyes were beginning to droop. He couldn’t help the smile that rose on his face at the sight of Arthur sound asleep, and a few seconds later, Merlin joined the King in sleep.

****

Arthur woke slowly in the morning—the heat from his bedclothes almost unbearable in his hot room. His sheets were resting low on his waist, but he was still nearly sweating in the early morning heat. He was still groggy, but he felt significantly more rested than he had been since his nightmares began—a welcome reprieve from his sleepless nights. A small snuffle drew his attention. Merlin was slumped over in a chair, head on the bed and hand lightly grasping Arthur’s. It brought a small smile to Arthur’s face knowing that Merlin had, for once, actually done what he was told. “Merlin? Wake up.” A small sound groan left Merlin’s lips, and the hand that rested around Arthur’s squeezed momentarily before it let go completely. Arthur watched as Merlin lifted his head slowly and sniffled. 

“Rthur?” Merlin sat up, fists rubbing his to clear the sleep out of them, an act that made him look much younger than he was. Once he was done waking up, Merlin gave Arthur a lopsided grin that made Arthur’s heart flutter lightly. 

“Up you get, Merlin. The king needs his breakfast, and you’ve got chores to do.” Merlin’s grin schooled into his classic are you kidding me look before huffing a sigh. 

“Alright, your royal pratness, let me go change then I’ll return with your breakfast. Can’t run a kingdom on an empty stomach, and I know how grumpy you are without your breakfast.” Merlin rose to his feet, making his way across the room to open the drapes and windows. A light morning breeze made its way through the room, rustling Merlin’s hair as he gazed into the courtyard. Arthur smiled to himself. Merlin’s witty and somewhat insolent retorts always seemed to bring a smile to his face no matter how bad the king was feeling. 

“You’re absolutely right, Merlin.” Arthur sat up, a small smile on his lips as he watched Merlin take a deep breath of fresh air. “You better hurry back too, or you’ll find yourself in the stocks.” Merlin just rolled his eyes before turning and making his way out of the room. 

When the door had shut behind his servant, Arthur flopped back down onto his pillows. With his friend now out of his sight, it allowed Arthur the opportunity to think about the previous night’s events without hesitation. He hadn’t wanted to be comforted about his nightmares. It was such a childish thing to be plagued by bad dreams, and Arthur hadn’t wanted to seem weak. He had been determined to let them run their course, but it had been almost two weeks since they had started, and they had only been seemed to be getting worse. He’d wanted to talk to Gwen about them, wanted to talk to anyone, really, but his stubbornness and his pride had stopped him. Merlin had been right--Arthur was never one for sharing feelings, and the only reaction to emotional duress he’d ever been good at was to push people away to protect his image. It was the only thing he could be relied upon to do when he was stressed and vulnerable, though no one tended to acknowledge it all. 

When Merlin had woken him, his instant reaction had been to push him away. They’d been on rocky ground lately anyway, since Merlin’s confession. Their banter had disappeared since Merlin returned to Camelot, and though Arthur wanted more than anything to talk to Merlin and be comforted by him, it was knee-jerk reaction when in a vulnerable state. Arthur should’ve known Merlin would refuse to leave, should’ve realized that Merlin wouldn’t allow Arthur to push him away as easily as everyone else, and laying here in his bed after one of the best night’s sleep he’s had since these horrific dreams started, Arthur couldn’t help but be grateful that Merlin not only had to courage to be as disobedient and insolent as he was but also had the sense to put aside any issues between them to be there when Arthur needed him most. Arthur knew Merlin’s been suffering since his return—that Arthur refusing to acknowledge him and his magic was hurting him more than Arthur had anticipated or expected, and guilt exploded in his chest as he began to think about how he’d been treating Merlin since his return. 

He didn’t have any more time for thinking as Merlin chose that moment to burst through his door, freshly changed and carrying a tray of breakfast. Kicking Arthur’s door shut with his foot, Merlin greeted him with a cheery “Morning again, Sire.” With a smile on his lips, Merlin dumped the tray onto the table just inside the room and strolled over to the bed. His genuine smile morphed into that cheeky smile he always had worn when he was about to say something he knew Arthur wouldn’t like. “Up and at ‘em.” 

“Do not start that again, Merlin, or I will actually put you in the stocks.” Merlin just smiled again, and Arthur refused to acknowledge the butterflies that erupted in his stomach to see Merlin’s smile. 

“Whatever you say, My Lord.” With a mock bow, Merlin made his way over to Arthur’s wardrobe to pick out his clothes for the day. Arthur took a moment to watch him before sitting up with a groan and making his way to the table. A few pieces of chicken were accompanied by some bread and cheese, and though it was nowhere near extravagant, Arthur was glad that Merlin knew that Arthur preferred humble meals where he could get them. As he sat back to eat, He watched as Merlin bustled around the room making the bed and tidying up wherever he could. It was something he’d only started doing upon his return, and Arthur realized that it was his way of trying to appease Arthur. It made Arthur slightly sick as he finally understood how much his refusal to acknowledge Merlin’s secret had really affected his friend. 

“Merlin, come have seat will you?”

Merlin’s head whipped around so fast, Arthur thought it could come off. Merlin’s eyes were wide as they shifted from Arthur’s face to the chair next to him. He stood still for a solid minute, judging to see if Arthur was actually joking, before slowly making his way to the table and taking a seat on the edge of the chair. “Is something wrong, my lord?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Merlin. You can relax now. I just want to talk, and now may be the only time.”

“Talk about what?” Merlin was clearly still unsure about Arthur’s motives, but some of the tension leaked out of his shoulders, and he moved a little further back into the chair. 

“Your magic.” Immediately, all the tension Merlin had just released returned to his body, and for the second time in a few weeks, Merlin refused to meet his eye. 

“What more do you want to know?”

“I know we’ve talked a little about it, but it’s clear it’s something we have to work through.”

“I know it still makes you uncomfortable, Arthur, and I’m sorry I’m forcing you into this situation.” 

“I just need to understand, Merlin. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to, and there were a couple times when you were still the crown prince that I almost told you, but I didn’t want you to have to choose between your father and me.”

“After I was king, why didn’t you say anything?’

“You watched your father die because of my magic, and Morgana had used magic for nothing for evil. You’d have every reason to hate me for it, and honestly, I was too scared.”

“Your magic? What do you mean?”

Merlin looked shocked again, and Arthur realized that Merlin hadn’t meant to say that by the way he was staring at his lap. “The old sorcerer—the one who you brought in to heal your father--that was me, and it would’ve worked, my healing spell, if Morgana hadn’t had Agravaine place an enchanted pendant around your father’s neck that would reverse the effects of my healing spell.” Merlin looked up again, and it was only after looking at his nervous and slightly guilty expression that Arthur had realized his mouth was agape. He shut it as quickly as possible as memories from that day flooded his mind. He remembered how familiar the old man’s eyes had been, how he had talked about his people’s freedom, and how shocked he seemed to be as Uther died. He remembered Merlin coming into the room with tears on his face and apologies on his lips, and everything made sense. He distantly recalls the sorcerer talking about how Arthur’s life had been saved by magic and how he’d hoped that Arthur would see him in a different light one day. It’s seems that day had come. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I really thought I could heal him. I didn’t anticipate Morgana’s intervention.” He makes to reply, but before he can another memory flashes in his mind. ‘“I’m sure that old sorcerer meant no harm. Perhaps the spell went wrong. Uther was dying.” Merlin said as he stood at the foot of Arthur’s table. “Maybe nothing could’ve saved him.”

“We’ll never know. All I know for sure is that I’ve lost both my parents to magic. It’s pure evil. I’ll never lose sight of that again.”’

He came back to the present with a rush. How could he have said that? How could he look at Merlin, a warlock, a said that he’d basically hated the very essence of his being? A rush of guilt settled quickly over him, and Arthur chanced a glance at his friend. Merlin was jumpy in his seat waiting for his response, and Arthur could tell that he looked ready to flee. He laid a comforting hand on Merlin’s arm where it rested on the table. “It’s okay, Merlin. It’s not your fault.” Merlin’s head shot up again and teary eyes met Arthur’s. With a small, comforting squeeze to Merlin’s arm, Arthur continued. “Tell me everything else you’ve done, Merlin. I want to know how much you’ve done for me and my kingdom.”

Merlin hesitated again, before he sighed. “There’s a lot, Arthur. We’ll have to go in small amounts. I don’t want to overwhelm you, and it will take a long time to go through everything.”

“Alright, Merlin. We’ll start small. We have some time now for a story or two before I have to be anywhere. Tell me a story or two.” Arthur watched as Merlin gave a small smile, one that made the butterflies erupt in Arthur’s stomach again, before he launched into the tale of the sorceress who tried to kill Arthur the first time Merlin had saved his life and been named his manservant.


	4. A Slow Understanding

The next couple of weeks saw Arthur and Merlin always together. Their relationship only seemed to strengthen as Merlin’s deeds were brought to light. Whenever they had a few moments, Arthur demanded more information from Merlin, and Merlin, though still wary, talked about his magical deeds as commanded. Arthur listened intently to his servant, determined to learn everything he could about how much Merlin had truly done for him. It was still a shock to Arthur, whenever he learned of the things Merlin had done, though with each story Arthur found himself flinching less whenever magic was brought up. He’d become comfortable with it eventually. 

They were as close together at night as they were during the day. After that first night of accepting Merlin’s comfort, Arthur found he could not sleep well unless his servant remained in the room. Though he still had nightmares, Merlin would wake him gently before he could wake the citadel with his screaming. Within a few minutes, Arthur would be fast sleep again, where he would remain until Merlin woke him for his duties in the morning. Arthur had once questioned why Merlin, of all people, was the only person who could comfort him enough to not only wake him gently but also ease him back to sleep in a matter of minutes. It didn’t take long for Arthur to suspect that Merlin was somehow using magic to help him. It seemed to be the only explanation for the fuzzy feeling Arthur got when he’d turn his head after being woken to see Merlin kneeling beside him. It was also the only explanation Arthur had for why he always found himself looking for Merlin in whatever room the King was in, no matter what time of day it was. Magic was the only reason Arthur had to explain the butterflies that seemed to happen whenever Merlin would smile or laugh or trip over something or hum a ridiculous tune while he tended to Arthur’s chambers. 

It led to Arthur asking about it one day. “Merlin?” Merlin’s humming stopped mid tune as he looked towards Arthur from his seat across the room. “Are you using magic to help me with my nightmares?” The glare he received in return made Arthur shiver.

“No, Arthur.” Arthur watched as Merlin returned to his polishing, though he seemed to use so much pressure that Arthur thought he would rub a hole in the hauberk. “In case you weren’t aware magic is still illegal in Camelot. I haven’t used it since Avalon.” He scoffed. “I can’t believe you actually think I would use my magic so ridiculously.” 

“From what you’ve told me, you’ve used your magic for many ridiculous things in the past. Don’t be such a girl, Merlin, it was just a question.”

“Maybe I did some stupid things with my magic in the first year or two I knew you, but not only was I learning but you were also a royal ass whose life needed saving every five minutes. I have only ever used my magic when I thought it necessary. Frankly, I’m a little offended that you would think so little of me.”

Merlin was right, as usual, and guilt settled heavy in Arthur’s gut as he realized what he had just asked of his friend. “You’re right, Merlin, and I’m sorry.” That got Merlin’s attention, as Arthur so rarely apologized in the first place and so few of those were ever sincere. He locked eyes with Arthur again, and the hurt that had been present in Merlin’s eyes slowly melted away as Merlin studied him and realized his king was as sincere as he had sounded. Merlin’s eyes stayed on Arthur’s with such a look of fondness in them that Arthur couldn’t help but smile. Merlin gave a small smile in return, then returned diligently to his task. 

Arthur studied Merlin as he worked, and the fuzzy feeling settled in his chest again. Merlin was humming absentmindedly again and his long fingers were tending to the armor with great care, and Arthur was admiring the way they gently held the armor like it was treasure instead of armor and for a split second, Arthur thought about what it would feel like to have those fingers caressing him just as gently. The thought didn’t shock him as much as he thought it would. Arthur had been thinking similar things over the course of the past month or so, and though he’d had very little time to really analyze them, he knew what they meant—knew that his feelings for Merlin were extending far beyond those of a friend. A memory rose in his mind—Merlin’s arms around him as he lay dying near the shores of Avalon. He remembers the words he thought in what Arthur had thought would be his last moments—the ‘I love you’ he was too afraid to say. Arthur couldn’t help but wonder whether or not in that dying moment he had meant that in a platonic or romantic way.

He didn’t have time to contemplate it before a knock sounded on his chamber’s door. At Arthur’s permission, Sir Leon stepped through the door and came to rest just on the other side of Arthur’s desk. “Sire you’re needed in the council chambers, there’s been movement on the northern border.”

“Lott’s men?” 

“Yes, Sire.” Arthur rose to his feet and glanced over Leon’s shoulder to lock eyes with Merlin who was already standing near the door ready for Arthur to lead the way. Arthur gave a small nod to Leon, took a step around his desk, and headed toward the open door. 

“Come along, Merlin. Looks like it’s going to be a long night.” He patted his friend on the back as he stepped through the door. He walked toward the council chambers, Merlin’s and Leon’s steps echoing behind him. 

****

They had known it wouldn’t have ended with Morgana’s death. She had many allies within each kingdom, and it could only be assumed that those allies would seek revenge for her death and her army’s destruction. Arthur had been watching Lott and his men for months now. His patrols had first spotted Morgana entering his kingdom months before the confrontation at Camlann. Though Lott was not supportive of magic, he was even less enthusiastic about Camelot and the Pendragons. When Morgana had first been spotted entering his kingdom, Arthur had only assumed she was trying to make an ally out of Lott. 

His suspicions were confirmed when the eastern border patrols kept sending in reports of seeing Morgana cross the border every couple of weeks. There was no other explanation for her nearly week long stays on that side of the border besides an alliance. Arthur had been surprised not to find Lott or any of his men at the battle of Camlann, and Arthur had thought briefly that he had been wrong about an alliance between them. In the weeks since her defeat, however, all doubt was quickly stripped as reports poured in about Lott’s men gathering slowly at Camelot’s border, and now it seemed like Lott was finally going to move against Camelot. 

As Arthur entered the council chambers, most of the nobles and head knights were already gathered around the round table. He crossed quickly to his chair. “Please take a seat. This emergency meeting of the round table is now called to order.” With that, everyone took a seat. Before continuing, Arthur’s eyes sought out Merlin. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to find Merlin standing near one of the pillars to his left, and with Merlin’s small nod, Arthur relaxed completely and continued. “You have all been summoned due to concerning reports that have been pouring in from the Eastern border. It appears Lott’s men are gathering more and more quickly and in larger numbers than they have been in the past month. It is my concern that Lott intends to cross the border with his army and move against Camelot. Leon, you have the full report?”

Leon stood slowly, holding in his hands, some of the reports. “Yes, Sire. The reports detail large numbers of Lott’s men marching to and camping just on the other side of Camelot’s Eastern border. Though we’ve had similar reports over the last couple of weeks, these reports detail numbers on a much larger scale than the previous reports.”

“How many men do they report.”

“Hundreds are flooding in every day. The last report suggested that there are now about five thousand men along the border.” Arthur nodded, more to himself than anything else. 

“Why weren’t we informed of this danger earlier?” Arthur recognized the voice as that of Lord Amron, one of the few counselors left who had served under Uther. It seemed that his opinion of the way Arthur was running Camelot paralleled the opinion Uther had when Arthur had used the horn of Cathbad. 

Leon moved to speak, but Arthur beat him to it. “The knights have been informing me privately about the matter over the past couple of weeks, and I had believed the numbers to be of little concern to the whole counsel. Up until now there have only been a few of Lott’s men coming to the border every couple of days, though I was watching it carefully. It wasn’t until these past couple of reports that my mind changed. With this large amount of men flooding in, I decided to inform you now. If you have an issue, Lord Amron, you can take it up with me after the meeting is dismissed. Do not direct your anger at Sir Leon who has been nothing but loyal to Camelot for years.” Arthur’s tone stopped Lord Amron from continuing, but it was clear he was going to continue after the meeting, and Arthur was dreading it already. “Sir Leon, please continue.”

With a quick glance to Lord Amron, Leon continued. “The most concerning parts of these new reports are that they state that some of King Alined’s men have been seen amongst Lott’s. At this point there are nearly one thousand of Alined’s men within those at the border, and more reports are coming in from patrols on the northwest border that more of Alined’s are marching there now.” 

“Thank you, Leon. You may have a seat.” Leon gave a small nod and returned to his sitting position. Once Leon was seated Arthur continued. “As of right now there is not much we can do since Lott is well within his rights to defend his border, and if Alined is Lott’s ally then he is well within his rights to assist Lott. They have not crossed the border, and until they do we cannot make any acts that could be seen as aggression.”

“Pardon me, your highness, but is a gathering of that size an act of aggression towards Camelot, and with Alined’s soldiers crossing through Nemeth to reinforce troops, it may be easier to consider it an act of war already” Lord Minser suggested somewhat cautiously. 

“While I believe it is such an act, as long as Lott’s men remain in Lott’s land we cannot officially consider it one.”

“What do you suggest we do then, my lord?”

“I suggest we supply those border patrols with a few more men and rotate them more frequently. Until any of Lott’s men cross the border our hands are tied.” Nearly all of the nobles around the table nodded in agreement, only Lord Amron sat still and glared at Arthur. “Anyone disagree?” When none of the Lords or knights raised an objection, Arthur continued. “Alright, we have all agreed. Leon talk to the other head knights and tell them to provide each Eastern patrol with two dozen more men each and have them alert the patrol leaders that men are to rotate every two or three days instead of every week. When Lott makes move, we will need to have fresh men.” Leon gave a nod in return. “My lords, please be prepared to be summoned at any time. There is no telling when Lott will make a move, but we need to be ready.” There was some moaning and murmuring amongst the nobles, but they were all nodding to signal that they understood. “Alright everyone, this session is dismissed.” With that the nobles and knights stood and retreated from the room. Merlin made to join his king’s side when Lord Amron turned from the doorway and made his way back council chamber. Merlin took his place just behind Arthur’s chair, closer than he perhaps should be, but his presence made Arthur feel a little more relaxed. He stood to greet the Lord, a mutual sign of respect, despite the Lord’s blatant show of disrespect earlier.. 

Lord Amron pulled up next to Arthur and gave a small bow. “My Lord.”

“You wish to speak with me, Lord Amron?”

“Yes, sire.” He gave a nervous glance around the room. “I am concerned that you are not taking this matter seriously enough. An army of that size could cause severe damage to Camelot. We must act before they cross our border.” 

“While I appreciate you voicing your concern, Lord Amron, it is peace I am seeking, not war. A direct move against them will be taken as an act of war. If I allow that to happen I will be going against everything I have built my kingdom upon.”

“But Sire…”

“I will not doom our kingdom to another war unless it is absolutely necessary, Lord Amron. That is final.”

“Your father would not have been idle. He would have marched our entire army to the border. He would not have let us look so weak by allowing them to gather in such a manner.”

“I am not my father, Lord Amron. I will build my kingdom on the ideals of peace, justice, and honor. I will not abandon those ideals just because some brute of a king who rules his kingdom on the basis of hate has decided to challenge us.” Merlin’s movement behind him caught his attention, and without even having to look he knew that Merlin was less than happy with how Lord Amron was addressing Arthur with thinly veiled disdain. 

Lord Amron only looked enraged by Arthur’s statement. “Peace will never be achieved, Arthur. It is nothing but a fantasy and trying to build a kingdom by peace only makes you look weak.” Arthur could feel the anger simmering beneath his skin. He felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder, and it gave a small squeeze—a silent communication from Merlin to remain calm before slowly releasing. He was eternally grateful for Merlin’s endless support. Lord Amron’s eyes flitted to Merlin, looking almost affronted by his presence. 

“I am your king, Lord Amron, and you will address me as such. You were a loyal advisor to my father for many years, but you must understand that I am not him. He was blinded by his hatred of magic and he executed thousands of innocents because of it. His hatred and ignorance is not something I aim to emulate. I will achieve peace by any means necessary, and this course of action is the best way. Thank you for your council, Lord Amron, but I will not change my mind. You are dismissed.” 

Lord Amron didn’t acknowledge Arthur as he made his way back toward the doors, another blatant sign of disrespect. Just before he left, he turned back around. “Your father would be disappointed in you.” With that he turned and left. 

Merlin’s footsteps stopped just behind him. “You shouldn’t listen to him, Arthur.”

“Why shouldn’t I? He’s not entirely wrong.”

“He is wrong. Arthur, you are destined to unite Albion and be the greatest king of all. You are the once and future king, Arthur.” Arthur wanted desperately to believe it, but doubt had found its way inside his chest, and it didn’t seem to want to let go. Merlin, ever so perceptive of his king’s emotions, made his way to stand in front of Arthur whose eyes had been staring at the tabletop since Lord Amron had left. “Arthur, please.” Arthur tried to resist the temptation to look up at Merlin, but he couldn’t. He hesitantly met his servant’s eyes. Merlin was giving him one of his small but sincere smiles, the ones that always made his heart speed up a bit. Merlin placed a comforting hand on his shoulders. “There will always be people who doubt you, Arthur, but they are wrong to do so.” Without even realizing it, Merlin’s hand moved to cup Arthur’s neck, an action that made Arthur’s breath catch in his throat. “You are the strongest and most honorable man I know. You are doing the right thing--you almost always do. You can’t expect everyone to agree. Don’t let their doubt make you doubt yourself. You’re love your people and your kingdom, and you’d do anything to protect that. The people trust you. The people love you.” He seemed to want to continue, like there was more that he wanted to say but was too afraid to say it. By the look on his face that was exactly what was happening, for Arthur could read Merlin as well as Merlin could read Arthur. 

“You always have so much faith in me, Merlin.” Merlin just smiled and released Arthur from his hold. As Merlin withdrew, Arthur wanted to pull his hands back and place them back to his neck where Arthur could still feel their warmth. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

Arthur smiled in return. “Come on, Merlin you need to get me ready for bed.” Merlin nodded, and they walked in step back to Arthur’s chambers. 

**** 

The situation with Lott escalated only a few days later. It was the middle of a training session that the news reached the king. He noticed one of the squires frantically making his way over to where Arthur and the other head knights were training. He paused his fight mid-swing and was on his way to the panting squire when Merlin came out of seemingly nowhere and intercepted him first. There was some frantic gesticulating from the squire who was wheezing his way through whatever news he had to deliver and a calm stoicism from Merlin who only broke eye contact with the young squire to look over his shoulder at Arthur briefly before returning his attention to the still out-of-breath young man. After what seemed like an eternity of back and forth between them, the squire gave a short nod and turned to leave. With a heavy sigh, Merlin turned and quickly made his way over to where Arthur had separated himself from the rest of the group. “Arthur…”

“Lott’s made a move?”

“Yeah. One of the patrols near the northeast border said that about three hundred men have crossed into Camelot.”

“Only three hundred?”

“As of right now, yeah. The squire said that there were runners sent to every patrol to see if it had happened anywhere else along the border. All the other patrols said the border was clear; however, the squire reported that there were smaller groups of men branching out from the large group and heading deeper into our lands.”

“He amassed an army of thousands. Why would he send so few men across?”

“I don’t know, Arthur, but I don’t like it.” Merlin looked concerned as he continued. “We can only assume that he’s an ally of Morgana. Whatever he’s planning it cannot be good. We have to think this through.” 

“Perhaps.” Merlin gave a small smile, and Arthur’s stomach fluttered again. “Merlin, gather as many council members as you can find. We need another emergency meeting of the Round Table.” Merlin only gave a small nod before turning and leaving. 

Arthur was watching after him, a half-smile stubbornly on his face no matter how hard he tried to set his face evenly again. A hand softly grasped his shoulder from behind, and he turned to face Leon, Gwaine, and Percival who all had a slightly concerned but knowing look on their faces. It was Gwaine who spoke up, not that it surprised anyone that it was him. “Lott?”

“Apparently he’s moved some men over the border, near the northeast corner. I’ve sent Merlin to gather the nobles for a Round Table meeting. I want you all there.”

Leon gave his shoulder a squeeze before releasing. “Of course, Sire. Lead the way.” 

****

Mere minutes later Arthur was entering the council chamber, the three knights trailing a step or two behind their king. Arthur’s eyes immediately found Merlin standing a few feet behind Arthur’s chair. Before he was even seated, Arthur began speaking. “This meeting was called because we received news that about three hundred of Lott’s men have crossed into Camelot. Though that’s all that’s currently crossed, reports have indicated that there are smaller groups of men that stem from this company are making their way deeper into our forests. We need to decide how we want to approach the situation. Any ideas?” 

One of the younger lords spoke up from across the room. “Shouldn’t we march our men out to meet them? Show Lott that challenging us is a mistake.”

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lord Borned, I would still like to avoid another war if possible. Marching all of our men to the border will only ensure conflict.” Lord Borned nodded in response. “Anyone else have any suggestions?” Everyone just sat silently around the table. “Alright, well I personally would like to see exactly what type of threat these men pose, so if there are no objections I’d like to take my own patrol out to the border to evaluate Lott’s men myself.”

Lord Amron spoke from across the table. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, my lord?” The title was almost spat out, and Arthur nearly flinched at the heat in the older lord’s eyes. “You are the king. If anything happens to you Camelot will be left defenseless.” 

Arthur took a deep breath, not in the mood to deal with Lord Amron’s disrespect today. It almost wanted to make Arthur pull his rank—raise his voice and put the man in his place—but if Arthur wanted peace, he had to emulate it in every aspect of his life. “You raise a genuine concern, Lord Amron, but if I am to counter whatever attack Lott is planning, I need to see everything first hand. Reports only tell me so much.” Lord Amron only stared. “If it’s a major concern to the counsel I’ll make sure to take the best knights with me. I will be perfectly safe with them at my side.” He glanced around the table. “Any objections? No? Good.” He motioned for Merlin to step forward and rose from his seat. “Meeting dismissed gentlemen. Leon, Percival, Gwaine, please remain behind. The rest of you may go.” The nobles gave small bows as they left, and once only the three knights and Merlin remained, Arthur released a breath. “Thank gods, that’s over. I thought Lord Amron would attempt to make me look a fool again.” They all gave sympathetic nods in return. “Alright, then you three gather a few men each. Tell them the plan is to ride out and scout Lott’s men, not fight them. We leave at first light.” The three men nodded and then left without a word. 

“Arthur, are you sure about this? He might be trying to lure you into a trap.”

“I know, Merlin, but you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh really? What am I forgetting?”

“You’ll be by my side—protecting me as you always have done.” A pleased smile rose on Arthur’s face when Merlin was left gaping and speechless and blushing. 

A few seconds of silence, only broken by the sound of their breathing, passed before Merlin was able to gather himself enough to reply. “I’m not perfect, Arthur. Things can still happen to you. Things have still happened to you despite my best efforts. I am not without fault.” 

“Maybe you’re right, Merlin, but just as you have faith in me, I have faith in you. You need to worry less.”

“Considering how many times you’ve nearly gotten yourself killed, Arthur, I have every reason to worry about you, and for your information, I think I worry just the right amount.” 

“All right, Merlin, you have a point.” He clasped Merlin on the shoulder as he continued. “Now come on, I’ve got work to do, and you have chores to do.” 

Merlin chuckled. “I always do, my lord.”

****

The morning presented them with a slight chill as Arthur watched Merlin and multiple squires finish packing the saddle bags with everything they’d need for their scouting mission. Though he knew he should be focusing his attention on said mission, Arthur couldn’t help but watch Merlin from his place on the steps of the palace. He was struggling to strap the last saddle bag to his mare, and his tongue was caught between his lips as he attempted to work the clasp together. Arthur smiled to himself as Merlin finally got the buckle into place and heaved a sigh of relief with a smile on his face at finally completing the task. A shout of his name forced him to pay more attention to his surroundings as Arthur often found himself being drawn to Merlin more than usual. 

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from Merlin to find Leon making his way to the steps. “The men are ready to depart when you are, my lord.” 

Arthur gave a nod in response and made his way down the steps to his mare which was shifting side to side anxiously. “We ride northeast for the border. We scout Lott’s men and come back. Under no circumstances are you to engage in combat unless they initiate—I am trying to avoid bloodshed. Everybody understand?” There were nods and some dispersed affirmations of “yes, sire,” and as soon as Arthur was certain the plan was clear, he mounted his horse and led her at a trot out of the citadel—Merlin and the rest of the knights following behind. 

They made great time that first of the three-day journey, making it farther than Arthur had anticipated they would. The sun was just disappearing before there was any need to stop. Arthur pulled his company into a fairly large clearing and ordered the men to set up camp for the night, and it didn’t take long before a fire was blazing in the center of the clearing and Merlin was busy preparing their dinner. The knights were all grouped off—small groups of different knights who tended to get along well with each other were dispersed throughout the campsite. Arthur wasn’t surprised to find that Leon, Percival, and Gwaine had grouped themselves around him and were bantering quietly back and forth. He tried to force himself to get involved in the bickering and fun, but he always found himself returning his attention back to Merlin, who was currently just on the other side of the fire making sure their stew wouldn’t burn. He was so busy admiring the way Merlin looked in the fire’s light that he missed the knowing looks his three head knights cast each other beside him, as if they were privy to information the king was not. 

Merlin looked up and a slightly confused emotion crossed his face as he noticed that Arthur had been staring at him, but it was soon replaced by that smile that Arthur had only ever seen directed at him, and a pleasant feeling settled in his chest at the thought that Merlin might have had a special smile all for him. Merlin speaking dragged him out of his head. “Dinner’s ready, sire.” Arthur nodded in response, still too lost in his thoughts to come up with some witty response which was usually what happened in instances like this. Instead he just watched as Merlin made his way around, distributing food to all the knights. He watched as Gwaine said something that made Merlin throw his head back and laugh. The ‘I love him’ that flashed unexpectedly through Arthur’s mind at the image shocked Arthur so much that he nearly fell off the log he was sat on. It shocked him so much he couldn’t even meet Merlin’s eye as he brought him his dinner. All he could do was dismiss Merlin with a few words and stare into the fire. 

He’d known that his feelings from Merlin had been branching far past platonic territory, so perhaps, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the thought that his mind brought something like that to his attention. It was more surprising that the thought seemed to come out of nowhere and with such a strength that it left Arthur breathless. Against his will, his eyes sought out Merlin who was sitting a short distance away with Gwaine, Percival, and Leon chatting amicably and laughing. ‘I love him’ rang loudly through his head again, and it left him just as breathless as it did the first time. 

He’d thought this thought once before, he remembered. He’d thought something similar while near the Lake of Avalon, but he was a dying he could hardly expect to be thinking clearly then. He wasn’t dying now, and he was thinking as clearly as he could be—the thought did not change. It just bounced around his head with the same confidence that the thought of knighting Lancelot and Gwaine and Percival had had despite it going against the first rule of Camelot. His mind was just as sure as it had been when he’d placed a round table in Camelot. There was no mistaking this thought for what it was—true beyond a shadow of a doubt, no matter how much Arthur wished it wasn’t. Now all Arthur had to do was decide what to do with that information, but now, in the middle of a potentially dangerous and very important expedition to the border where there was an enemy king sending men into his kingdom, was not the time to try to figure that out. It would have to wait.

****

Despite how much he tried to prevent his revelation from affecting his interactions with Merlin, he found that he couldn’t meet Merlin’s eye and could only talk to him in short clipped sentences that made everybody look at him with confusion written across their face and made guilt settle deep in his stomach. The next two days of the trip could only be described as unbearable. Arthur’s bad mood seemed to have everyone walking on eggshells, especially Merlin, who could tell that whatever was bothering Arthur wasn’t going to be talked about—though Arthur could tell he wanted to ask. It only made the guilt settle heavier in his abdomen. Arthur just pretended not to notice how much he was affecting everyone else and went about his business. 

The fourth day left no time for moods or revelations as it brought them just outside one of Lott’s encampments. Arthur instructed him men to quietly dismount a mile or two back so that they could approach on foot to avoid being seen. Once everyone had dismounted, Arthur sent them in small groups to circle the camp as best they could. If this mission was to be a success, Arthur needed every piece of information he could get. Leon, Percival, Gwaine, and Merlin were all to remain with Arthur, while the rest of the men were to be spilt up into groups of three and scout the remaining areas of the camp. This particular encampment was relatively small and limited the amount of information Arthur could get about Lott’s plans; however, it was the one patrol that had made it the farthest into Camelot’s borders—making it the perfect target for Arthur’s mission. It was the first they’d come upon and was isolated from the other of Lott’s patrols which were all stationed nearly twenty miles closer to Escetir's border. If everything went well, they could get all the information they needed without being spotted and be on their way back to Camelot without this patrol even knowing they were here. 

Luck was not on Arthur’s side. A shout arose from Lott’s men and Arthur watched as they began moving to gather their weapons. He was wondering what had caused the previously relaxed men to take up arms so quickly when Merlin leaned into his ear. “The knights to the left of us have been spotted by one of Lott’s sentries. Lott’s men are aiming to kill them.” Arthur only had to look at Merlin to know that Merlin had used magic to get such information. 

“Okay. Leon, Percival, Gwaine, our men have been spotted around to our left. We have to draw some of Lott’s men to us.” The knights only nodded in response. “On me!” Arthur rushed through the trees, Merlin and the others hot on his heels. Lott’s men, caught off guard, turned around only to be met with Camelotian steel. Arthur noticed as the rest of his men sprung from the trees and converged on the camp. Though the camp was small, Lott’s knights were skilled fighters. Arthur was sweating heavily as he struck down another of Lott’s men. He barely had time to turn around and see the Escetian soldier sneaking up behind him before a sword flew out of nowhere and lodged in the soldier’s chest. He turned subtly, meeting Merlin’s eyes and giving a grateful nod before returning to the battle in front of him. A soldier came at him from his left, and Arthur turned to meet him. Instinctively, he raised his sword to parry the soldier's blow. 

A few minutes later, Arthur watched as Leon skillfully struck down the last of the Lott’s men. He let out a sigh of relief as the battle ended. He immediately gave himself a once over, checking for an injury he may have missed in the midst of a battle and smiled a little to himself when he found that, besides being dirty and sweaty, he was unscathed. “Leon, report.”

“All of Lott’s men have been taken care of, Sire. We’ve counted thirty Escetian soldiers altogether. Our losses have been minimal. We’ve lost one man, and there are a few others with some scrapes and bruises, but nothing that can’t be taken care of.”

“The loss?”

“Sir Pavrol, my Lord.” Arthur only nodded his head. “Give these men the proper burial, and I’ll have Merlin tend to the wounded. When that’s done, we can make our way back to Camelot.” 

“Very good, Sire. I have one question, though, My Lord.”

“What is it?”

“Where is Merlin?” Arthur whipped his head up from where he’d been cleaning his sword with a rag he kept in his boot. His eyes immediately shot to where he’d last seen Merlin only minutes ago. When he wasn’t there, Arthur began frantically scanning the site for any sign of his useless manservant. 

“Merlin?” He called into the forest. “You can stop cowering now. The battle’s over.” No reply. When a few seconds had passed without reply, he turned back to Leon. “Take a few men into the forest, see if you can find him. I’ll have the rest bury the bodies.” Leon only nodded taking a small group of men and leading them into the trees. Arthur just stood, terror seizing his body. Never before had Merlin disappeared after a fight. Despite what Arthur often said, Merlin was the bravest out of all of them—to have him be missing was a terrible sign. Dread settled heavily in Arthur’s stomach as he approached the tent Merlin had last been seen standing beside. On the ground, hidden partially by the side of the tent, was Merlin’s brown jacket. Arthur hesitantly reached down and grabbed the jacket, pulling it into his chest. He never went anywhere without his jacket, and the implications of what it meant that it was here, now, with no Merlin in sight nearly brought Arthur to his knees. He looked frantically into the forest around him. _ Merlin, where are you? _


	5. The Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for descriptions of torture. They're not too in-depth but just thought I'd provide a warning. 
> 
> This chapter will switch POV's often since our boys are separated.

Merlin woke, blindfolded and spluttering as cold water soaked into his skin. He took the next few seconds to orient himself to his surroundings as best he could. There were chains around his wrists and ankles and a gag in his mouth. There was also some sort of uncomfortable collar on his neck, restricting the movement of his head. From what he could tell he was sat, propped against a wall of some sort. His teeth chattering the only noise in the silence. Although he couldn’t see, he could sense someone’s presence, could tell there was some one watching him as he shivered. He tried to recall what had happened. He remembers being in the northern camp and the fight that had ensued. He remembers Arthur giving him a grateful nod for the Escetian knight he had killed. He remembers watching Arthur turn back to the fight and strike down two more men. Then he remembers something cold clasping around his neck and a spell being whispered and then…. nothing. 

His skin prickled as he heard someone shuffle towards him and the sound of a dungeon gate shutting loudly. Skin brushed his cheeks as the blindfold was forcefully removed from his eyes. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust despite the cell being relatively dark. He blinked slowly, clearing the white spots from his vision only to come face to face with a tall, intimidating man. He was standing a few inches away from Merlin’s feet which were stretched straight out in front of him. Though he’d never seen this man before, the crest on his chest gave his identity away immediately. King Lott. With his eyes now free, he scanned his surroundings. The cell was small, square, and made of solid stone. It was much smaller than the Camelot dungeons, and it was far less pleasant. There was no form of bedding on the ground to soften the cold stone floor, there was nothing that could be deemed a bed. The cell was empty, except for the man and chains that were containing Merlin—chains, Merlin soon realized, made of cold iron. 

As soon as he realized it, his whole body jolted as he fought the chains. Panic stirred deep in his chest as his magic fought to free itself from where it was trapped inside his chest. He struggled against the bindings for a few minutes before giving in and slouching against the stone wall. “There is no use fighting those chains, Emrys. Morgana told me all about how cold iron tampers magic. With them on, you are powerless.” It took Merlin a moment to register what had just been said, too busy focusing on the fact that he was totally and completely screwed, but as soon as Lott’s words settled into his brain, his eyes went wide. 

“Morgana?”

“Yes. I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that her and I had quite a few dealings before she was murdered. She told me all about you. Emrys, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the Earth serving the boy king in Camelot. It really is ironic. The family so determined to rid the world of magic being protected by a magician. The Pendragons are no friend to magic. Tell me, Emrys, how will your ‘Great King’ react once he discovers your filthy little secret?” Merlin took notice of the venom in the words Great King and the hatred that was lingering beneath his words. Merlin didn’t grace him with a reply. “So quiet.” Merlin watched as Lott’s eyes traced him in his seat. “That won’t do.” 

“I have nothing to say to you. There is nothing you can do that would make me betray my king or Camelot.”

“Such loyalty to a man that would see you dead, but you underestimate me. Morgana told me everything I would need to know about how to keep you and how to…use you however I want.”  
Merlin leveled a glare at the man standing before him. “What could you possibly want with me. You’ve never been a friend to magic users either. In fact, until Morgana you’ve had everyone suspected of sorcery rounded up and murdered.” 

“In my dealings with Morgana I began to see the error of my ways. She showed me how magic could assist me, how I could use it to become the most powerful man in the whole of the five kingdoms. Just before she went to Camlann she told me of you and the power you hold, and I knew I had to get my hands on you. It was all too easy to set a trap for you. Now that I have you, you will serve me.”

“I will never serve you. I will not betray Arthur. I would rather die.”

“I thought you’d say that, but don’t worry. Before long you will have no will to resist me. I will strip you of everything that you are. I will tear apart your convictions.” A memory flashed in Merlin’s mind, a memory of the Sidhe and the island of Avalon. ‘You are magic itself, and you cannot die, but you will find the price may strip you of all that you are, and you may not be able to find your way back.’ He realizes now what they meant. “I will break you, and when that happens, I will use you as I see fit…” Lott sank to his knees, and Merlin watched as Lott’s eyes raked over his body again, something akin to hunger in them. “However I see fit.” The meaning was not lost on Merlin. Lott would break him and use him as a weapon to take what he wanted and as if that wasn’t satisfying enough, he’d be used as a whore. The threat made Merlin shiver. 

“You will never break me.”

“We shall see, Emrys, we shall see.” The king smirked as he stood up. Merlin watched as he made his way out of the cell, a sense of dread overcoming him. 

**** 

The ride back to Camelot was solemn. None of the knights dared speak, too afraid of the outburst that was sure to ensue. Arthur could sense their unease, could tell by the subtle glances they gave each other that they were having a silent conversation with each other, but he was too angry to care. This situation was so similar to the one that had occurred a few short years ago, Merlin being injured in a fight with bandits and disappearing after the rock fall separated them in the gorge. It made Arthur irrationally angry that it could happen again—that he let it happen again. He was riding fast, pushing his mare to her limits—trying and failing to reach Camelot as fast as possible. It was getting dark, making it nearly impossible to see, and they needed rest. He didn’t want to stop. He needed to get back to Camelot so he could start looking for Merlin, but he begrudgingly pulled into a clearing and dismounted his horse. “We’ll camp here tonight but be ready to leave at first light.” His knights only nodded. 

A few minutes later, their small camp was set up and a fire was blazing slowly. A few rabbits had been caught and were now slow roasting over the small fire. Arthur was sitting on a fallen tree, staring off into the forest, and the sound of his knights laughing and roughhousing nearby seemed distant to his ears. His thoughts were on Merlin—Merlin who should’ve been there with him tending to the fire or feeding the horses or teasing Arthur relentlessly in the way that was oh so annoying but always managed to make Arthur smile and make warmth bloom in his chest. He was thinking about Merlin and how he was the bravest and most loyal man that Arthur had ever met, and how despite his sharp tongue, his insolence, and his clumsiness, the man had somehow managed to worm his way into Arthur’s heart in a way that the king had never seen coming and hadn’t even realized until a few days ago. He thought about Merlin and how he was gone and how Arthur may never have the chance to tell Merlin how much he means to him. He thinks about Merlin, and his heart beats painfully in his chest. 

Arthur was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Leon sit on the ground beside him. “Sire?” Arthur only stared at the fire, lost in thought and agony and silently praying to any god that is listening that Merlin is alive. “Sire?” The sound was distant to Arthur’s ears as he began to remember his favorite memories of Merlin—their quests together, their bantering, all those times Merlin had stood by his side with the utmost faith in the kingdom he was trying to build and the man Arthur was. “Arthur?” He was shook by his thoughts at the sound of Leon calling his name. It was rare for Leon to use his name—he was always a man dedicated to propriety—that hearing him use it now, in front of the rest of the knights was so shocking Arthur had no choice but to be pulled from his thoughts and to finally gaze at his head knight. “We’ll find him, Arthur. We will. I’m sure of it.” Arthur just looked down. “We understand what he means to you. He means a lot to us too. We won’t stop looking for him.”

“You don’t.”

“Don’t what, my lord?” 

“You don’t understand what he means to me.” He refused to look at Leon as he said this. “I barely understand it myself.” 

“What do you mean?”

Though his sham marriage was well known amongst most of his head knights and council members, acknowledging his strictly platonic relationship with his queen out loud was still embarrassing. It hadn’t been a secret to those close to them that, though they cared deeply for each other, Arthur and Gwen couldn’t move past what had happened between them. Their marriage, though filled with platonic love, was for the good of Camelot. “I’ve realized something, Leon, something about how I feel for Merlin. I only realized it a few days ago and I’ve hardly acknowledged it since, but now that he’s gone I…” He choked, swallowing down the emotion swelling in his chest. After composing himself enough to keep the tears at bay, he turned his head and looked at Leon. “I think I love him.”

Leon sighed, placed his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and said “I know.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know that you love him. I’ve known for years, but it was clear by your behavior that you didn’t.”

“Leon’s right, Arthur.” Gwaine’s voice sounded from somewhere to his right, and Arthur turned to his right to see Gwaine and Percival approaching. “We’ve known how you felt about him for a while.” Arthur was too shocked to reply. “It’s alright, Arthur, calm down.” He looked between his three of his closest friends who all had sad yet understanding smiles on their faces and sighed, the hole in his chest growing with every second Merlin was gone.

“I need him back.”

Gwaine’s hand on his shoulder, “We’ll find him, no matter what it takes, Arthur. I swear it. He’s our friend too.” Arthur could only nod. 

**** 

Merlin awoke to the sound of his cell door squeaking as it was swung open. He opened his eyes expecting to see king Lott entering, but instead he found a different man walking in. Two guards were following behind, carrying a small table and a sack. The man placed himself in front of Merlin as the two guards dropped the table into the opposite corner of his cell. The thump the satchel made as it was placed on top made Merlin even more suspicious. Whatever this man was here for, it couldn’t be good. “So you’re the powerful sorcerer that King Lott keeps talking about. You don’t look like the most powerful sorcerer ever, but I guess that’s what made it so easy for everyone to overlook you.” Merlin only glared at the man. “I’m going to take so much pleasure in destroying you.” Merlin watched as the man turned away from him and moved to the table across from him. Slowly, the man began to remove the contents of the bag. As each thing was carefully removed and placed on the table, the dread that had been festering in Merlin’s chest multiplied ten-fold. “You know what these are, Emrys.”

“Instruments of torture.”

“Close. Instruments of torture infused with dark magic—a gift from Morgana. She took great pleasure in describing how the magic would amplify the pain. With her help, you’ll suffer more than you could possibly imagine. It’s only a shame that she isn’t here to see it.” The man ran his fingers over every instrument before grasping the nine-tailed whips—those most commonly used in floggings. They were always meant to cause the most damage and the most pain. Merlin’s magic struggled in his chest as it registered the oncoming danger. It fought to free itself from where it was trapped, to help Merlin protect himself, but the cold iron chains that wrapped around his wrists and ankles and neck kept Merlin from being able to call on it. As the man approached, a wicked grin on his face, Merlin began to struggle against his bindings, attempting to escape from them or distance himself from the man. His efforts proved futile as the first strike of the whip landed across his thighs.

Searing pain shot up his body as the wounds opened, but he barely had time to gather himself before another lash was delivered in nearly the same spot. The skin of his thighs split open and blood began to soak through the remains of his breeches. Screams were ripped from Merlin’s throat as the man landed lash after lash across his thighs and shins and occasionally the lower parts of his abdomen. It was some time later, hours it seemed, when Lott strolled into the dungeons and was let into his cell. “How are things coming along, Merek?”

“He’s not saying much, and he’s attempting to resist each lash, quite unsuccessfully if I do say so. He’s stubborn. It will take a long time to break him.”

“Do it as quickly as you can. I need him to move against Camelot within the month.” 

“Yes, Sire.”

Satisfied with the answer, Merlin watched through teary eyes as Lott sank to a crouch beside him. “There’s no use trying to escape punishment, Emrys. It won’t work. Merek here will break you, and soon after you will swear fealty to me. You will be my weapon, my property, to use as I see fit, and you will have no will to resist.” 

Merlin grit his teeth against the pain. “I will never serve a power-hungry tyrant like you. You are a man without honor who rules through fear and hate. You are not worth the crown you wear, and you do not deserve the title of king. You are a small man afraid of his insignificance, and I will never let you use my power for evil. You can torture me all you want, but I will never stop fighting you. The only king I will ever serve is The Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon, and it will take more than some torture to change that. You can try all you want, your majesty, but I’m sorry to say that you will always be as small and insignificant as you fear you are.” 

The slap came out of nowhere. “I’m a king, boy, and I will not be spoken to with such insolence.” He grabbed Merlin by his hair, yanking it so roughly that Merlin couldn’t help but to give a small yelp. “Your rebelliousness won’t last long. I will have it beaten out of you if I have to, but I will have you no matter what it takes.” With a snarl, he released his grip on Merlin’s hair and flung him forward onto his stomach. All the air left Merlin in a rush as his chest landed on the stone floor. “There’s so much unmarked skin on his back, isn’t there, Merek? See to it that changes.” The man only nodded as Lott made his way out of the cell. 

His breath hadn’t even returned to him when the first lash struck the flesh of his back, and Merlin grit his teeth against the pain. Merek was relentless, only taking the few seconds it took to swing his arm back between lashes. Despite how much he tried to resist, Merlin could only scream, and tears leaked out the corners of his eyes and onto the cold stone floor as Merek struck him again and again. It took hours before his body was exhausted enough to go limp and Merlin slipped into unconsciousness. 

****

They arrived back in Camelot, a thunder of hoofbeats on stone. Gwen was waiting on the steps to greet them, a small smile visible on her lips, but as soon as she saw the looks on the knights faces the smile dropped immediately. “Arthur, what happened?” Arthur dismounted his mare, and furiously grabbed his sword and scabbard from her side before marching up the steps into the castle—his three head knights and Gwen quickly following behind him. He stormed through the castle, jaw clenched and murder on his face. Servants and courtiers scrambled to get out of his path, but each stared as he moved past them, wondering what the king had seen that caused him to look so murderous. 

He didn’t stop moving until he was in the middle of his chambers, sword on the table near the door. He heard his four friends enter behind him and shut the door, standing silently. A few seconds passed before Arthur turned to the side and abruptly upended the chair to his right. All the pain he’d been feeling the past three days to Camelot unleashed. He flipped all the chairs, and when that wasn’t enough he upturned the table, sword crashing to the floor. He moved further into the room, grabbing anything within his reach and throwing it against walls. Mirrors were smashed, changing screens were thrown, his wardrobe pushed to the ground and cracked. When Arthur exhausted himself, he sank to his knees near the end of his bed. 

Heels clacking on stone reminded Arthur that he was not alone. Gwen approached slowly like someone approaching a startled animal. Arthur heard he dress rustling as she knelt behind him, and her warm hand landed gently on his shoulder. “Arthur? What’s wrong?” He choked on a sob, barely managing to keep his composure. 

“Merlin was right, Gwen. It was a trap.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Lott’s men were a trap. He sent them over the border to draw us out, exactly like Merlin said.”

“I don’t understand. If it was a trap for you, why are you here?”

“It wasn’t a trap for me… It was a trap for Merlin.” He’d had a lot of time to think on the journey back from Camelot. After getting over the initial shock of Merlin’s disappearance and his feelings for the man, he’d spent the time working out why Lott’s men would take a servant. At first he’d thought it was just because he was the easiest to grab, after all Merlin was the only man isolated enough to be grabbed easily and he was servant who was unarmed, but that seemed too convenient an explanation. It took him a while to connect Morgana’s supposed alliance with Lott to the plan. If Morgana provided Lott with information about Merlin’s powers, Lott would have reason to seek him out. Lott was a man who craved power, who used any means necessary to gain and maintain power. A sorcerer as powerful as Merlin could get him anything he wanted. He’d come to that conclusion just short of the gates of the citadel. It’s why he arrived so angry. Merlin had been taken as a slave—a weapon for Lott’s quest for power. It had made Arthur seethe with anger. 

“Merlin? What could Lott possibly want with Merlin?” Arthur sighed heavily at Leon’s question. He hadn’t bothered to talk much on the journey back, too guilt ridden and upset to do anything more than guide the way home and bark orders. He looked over his shoulder at Gwen, who gave him a knowing look. He squeezed her hand, the one that was still resting on his shoulder, before slowly rising to his feet. He straightened his tunic before turning back towards his knights. 

“Bar the door, I don’t need anyone coming in on this conversation.” As Percival turned around to bar Arthur’s door, the king moved from his spot in the middle of the room and back to the upended table and chairs. He righted the table again, grabbing his sword from the floor as he did so, and when the table was back in its place with Excalibur, still in its scabbard, on top, he grabbed one of the chairs, set it back on its feet, and took a seat. “Please have a seat.” Gwen righted a chair and took a seat without hesitation, but the three knights threw confused looks at each other before Gwaine shrugged and moved to sit. 

When the three knights were sat, Arthur sighed again and dropped his head into his hands. They needed to know Merlin’s secret in order to help find him, but Arthur only felt guilt as he sat in his chair. It was not his secret to tell. It was Merlin’s, and if they reacted badly he wasn’t here to defend himself. He ran his fingers through his hair before heaving another sigh and raising his head. “We’ve suspected for a while that Morgana had made an ally of Lott. It’s for this reason that I think he targeted Merlin.” The knights’ confusion showed on their faces, but before any of them could speak, Arthur continued. “To explain this fully, I need to back up a bit, so stay with me and do try not to interrupt.” They nodded slowly. “Do you remember the old sorcerer?”

“The one who killed your father?”

Arthur cringed a little, remembering the guilt that consumed Merlin when he had confessed. His heart tugged painfully at the memory of seeing his servant in so much pain. “Yes, that one.” The three just nodded. “He said his name was Dragoon, but his name was really Emrys. It's a name famous in Druidic prophesy. He is said to be the greatest sorcerer to ever live, and in being so, he was Morgana’s sworn enemy. His identity was the reason Gaius was kidnapped years ago. She needed his identity so that she could seek him out and kill him. Despite everything, Gaius managed to protect Emrys’ identity.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, but if he was so powerful why was he Morgana’s enemy and not her ally?” Leon spoke softly. 

Arthur glanced a Gwen, unsure whether he should actually share this information. She just gave him a small nod and encouraging smile. “Emrys had dedicated his life to protecting Camelot and me. Morgana saw that as a betrayal. She was furious that there was a sorcerer protecting the kingdom that sought the deaths of their kin, and that the sorcerer was so much stronger than her was just another reason to kill him.” 

“I’m sorry, did you just say he was protecting Camelot?” Percival looked super confused as he asked the question that Arthur could even be angered by another interruption. 

In response, he nodded his head before he continued. “I’ve recently discovered how much he’s done for Camelot, how much he’s done for me. He really is a true ally of Camelot. Anyway, when Mordred left to align himself with Morgana, he revealed Emrys’ true identity to her.”

Percival looked shy again as he asked another question. “How did Mordred know?”

“He was raised by the druids, and it would only make sense that he would know of their prophecies. If Morgana truly was Lott’s ally it would only make sense that she would share Emrys’ identity with him.”

Gwaine was studying him carefully, trying to figure out why this was a relevant topic to the issue of Merlin’s kidnapping. Eventually he gave up trying to work it out, and just decided to ask. “Thanks for the fascinating story, princess, but what does this have to do with Merlin?”

Arthur gathered his breath. “Emrys is the prophetic name. It is not the name the man was given by his mother which is why Morgana had so much trouble figuring out who he was. Emrys’ real name…is Merlin.” 

Arthur watched as the knight’s mouths hit their chins. They sat gaping at him for a solid minute before Leon gathered himself enough to speak. “Are you saying that Merlin is a sorcerer?”

“He’s a warlock—born with his magic. He’s the most powerful warlock to ever exist. If Morgana told Lott of Merlin’s identity then I fear what Lott intends to do with him.” Percival and Leon were sitting there, brows furrowed and silent, and Arthur remained silent to let them process the information. He watched them for a while before glancing left at Gwaine, who was sitting suspiciously relaxed in his chair. A realization came to Arthur. “How long have you known, Gwaine?” Leon’s and Percival’s head snapped up to look at Gwaine. 

“I didn’t know all that Emrys stuff, but he told me about his magic a few months ago—when I was recovering from the Nethair.” Arthur sighed in relief at the news. Some selfish part of him was glad that Merlin had told Gwaine after he had told Arthur, but now was not the time for such selfish thoughts. 

“I know it’s a lot to take it, but it’s information we need in order to find him.”

“But sire, he’s a sorcerer.”

“You’re right, Leon. He is a sorcerer, but he has been protecting me and my kingdom since the day he arrived in Camelot. He has been standing by my side, risking his life everyday just by existing and even more by using magic in Camelot to protect, me, my father, and the kingdom for a decade never seeking reward or recognition. He is our friend, our strongest ally, the greatest sorcerer to ever live, and…” he glanced at Gwen with a slight blush on his cheek, “the man I love. I will not leave him to suffer at the hands of Lott’s cruelty. I will not leave him to a life of slavery and torture.”

“But, sire, magic is evil.”

“Leon, you’ve known Merlin for years. If you think that man has an evil bone in his body you have not been paying attention.”

Leon furrowed his brows again. A few seconds later, his forehead smoothed, and his eyes raised to meet his king’s gaze. “All those miraculous escapes, all those times you should have died and didn’t, all of those times we somehow defeated Morgana even though she was using magic. That was him?”

“It would seem so.” Percival spoke quietly, but Arthur registered the awe that had laced those few words.

“It goes farther than any of you know. I’ve realized something over the past couple of months—Merlin’s made me realize something over the past couple of months. Magic is not inherently evil. It a weapon like any other. There is no evil in magic, only in the hearts of men, and Merlin is the furthest thing from evil. I understand it’s a lot to take in, and that according to my father’s law—the law I now enforce, saving Merlin is wrong, but not for the first time in my life I have realized how unjust my father was, and as soon as Merlin is safely in my arms again, it’s an unjust law I plan to repeal. Please, help me find him.” 

“I’m in. Merlin is my best friend and the best man I’ve ever known. I will never abandon him.” Arthur looked thankfully at Gwaine for his undying support of Merlin. Besides Arthur, Gwaine was always the first who would give his life for Merlin, who would walk through the mouth of hell for him. If Arthur was being honest with himself, he had always thought Gwaine’s devotion stretched far beyond that of a friend or brother, but he’d never pressed the issue—too scared of the answer. 

Percival spoke up next. “I didn’t not grow up here in Camelot, and I mean no offense, sire, but I’ve never shared the kingdom’s hatred of magic. Merlin’s character has always been clear to me but reviewing this new information has only strengthened my belief that Merlin is the best of us. I will help you find him, whatever it takes.”

Arthur looked to Leon next, slightly scared at what he would say. He’d been his father’s knight long before he was ever Arthur’s and had been raised and groomed in Uther’s hatred. If there was anyone in this room who would hesitate to help him, it would be Leon. “It is clear to me now, Arthur, that Merlin has saved our lives on too many occasions to count. I would like to see him again, to thank him for that. Of course I’ll help you.” 

Arthur heaved a sigh of relief. “Alright, good.” He looked around the table at his closest friends—his most trusted knights and his queen, and his heart clenched at the fact that one person was missing. He was determined to get him back, to save the man who time and time again had saved Arthur in multiple ways. So with a look at each of them, he smiled. “We know Lott has him. We just have to figure out where. We start now.” Everyone gave a collective nod. _ I will find you, Merlin. By gods, I swear I will find you._


	6. A Rescue Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some more brief descriptions of torture. Again nothing super descriptive, but if anything like that bothers you just be careful.

It had been a week, but to Merlin it felt like years. Every morning Merek would saunter in with a smug smile on his lips and unleash all new types of pain until well into the night when Merlin would finally fall unconscious from the pain. His magic had been fighting, trying to claw its way out of where it was stuck, to protect Merlin from the suffering, but the cold iron was reinforced with ancient runes and dark magic, and despite his power, his magic could not escape. 

Yet Merlin continued to fight. With every ounce of his being he resisted. To the best of his ability he refused to give Merek the satisfaction of breaking him. He grit his teeth, clenched his jaw, anything he could to prevent the screams and whimpers and tears, but it just wasn’t enough. It was becoming harder for him to fight. His body was aching and throbbing all over, blood had soaked through what remained of his tunic and breeches. There was no part of his body that Merek had yet forget about. His back and legs were covered in lashes that throbbed and ached and reopened whenever he moved. His torso had been the focal point of yesterday’s session when Merek had taken a dagger and enjoyed slicing Merlin open. Through all the abuse, Merlin’s face was left mostly untouched. A few cuts had been distributed along his cheeks and neck, but it seemed Merek was hesitant to deal too much damage. It didn’t matter at this point, and some part of Merlin was starting to think he wouldn’t make it out of this situation anytime soon. As much as he hated to admit it, Merlin could feel his fight leaving him. 

Merlin could hear the cell door swing open from his spot curled in the corner, and he took a deep breath and remained resolutely away from the door. Three sets of footprints met his ears and in his confusion he turned to look over his shoulder before Merek and another soldier rolled him over forcefully. The pain that shot through him was enough to nearly knock him unconscious again, but a fist connecting with his ribs kept him awake. Through his pain filled haze, Merlin could feel Merek and the other grab his chains and yank him across the stone floor, scratching his already broken body and reopening every wound on his back. He hissed in pain, and tears leaked out of his eyes against his will as he was yanked to a stop in the center of the cell. He had one moment to register Lott standing in his cell doorway before his arms were jerked up and his body was raised to a standing position, toes barely touching the floor—a position that reminded him of that day many years ago when Morgana had kept him in her hovel.

“Emrys it is good to see you again.” Lott was looking at him, all smug and arrogant, and for the first time in a couple of days, Merlin was reminded why he needed to stay strong. “I haven’t been happy with how slow the process was, so I asked Merek here to help me come up with ways of speeding it along. We came to the conclusion that allowing him access to your whole body at once would solve the problem.” He had stalked closer through his speech, and Merlin had leveled a glare at him as he stood to rest right in front of Merlin’s now hanging body. “It won’t take long for you now.”

Merlin spat in his face. “I’ve said it before, Lott. I will never betray my king, and I will never, as long as I live, allow to use my power.” He had to take a gasping breath then, his body too weak to handle his outburst. “I do not serve unjust tyrants and power-hungry pigs like you, and I will die before that changes.” 

“You are just an insolent boy. You have no right to speak to me in such a way.”

“And you, Lott, are just a man. A man who sat on an empty throne in a land claimed by chaos and had the audacity to deign yourself a king.” Merlin took another gasping breath to continue. “Well let me tell you this. You, Lott, are no king. I’ve known men born in pig sties who had more honor in their little finger than you do in your entire body. You may have sat in someone else’s chair and placed someone else’s crown upon your head, but you did not win this land nor were you born to it. You are nothing but a man playing dress up.”

Lott’s face turned an alarming shade of red before he slapped Merlin hard across the face. “Watch your mouth, boy.” Merlin squeaked then as Lott grabbed his chin so forcefully that Merlin was sure that it would leave bruises. “Your insolence will not be tolerated. Do you understand me?” Merlin watched Lott’s eyes move from his face to the collar that was still around his neck. “In fact, I think it’s time this boy learns his lesson on how to speak to royalty, don’t you Merek?” With a smug look, Lott turned to the torturer whose smug smile had turned even more wicked at the suggestion. Whatever it was that was around his neck, it couldn’t be good. “What was it again? Oh, yes.” He ran a finger over the collar as he spoke, and Merlin was surprised when the next words out of Lott’s mouth were in the familiar language of the Old Religion. The spell sounded immediately evil, but before Merlin could contemplate much more, his body seized in pain. The collar on his neck began to burn, and pain rippled through his body as he struggled against the chains to escape the burning metal around his throat. He screamed and cried as he struggled, and his magic frantically moved in his body trying to escape. It felt like forever that he was stuck there with his flesh burning and wounds reopening as he twisted violently, but it was, in reality, only about thirty seconds later when Lott released the spell, and the burning stopped. 

“That is what happens to insolent slaves, boy. Don’t forget it.” He scanned Merlin up and down again with the same predatory gaze that he had the first time. His eyes came to rest on Merlin’s face, and the heat in Lott’s eyes only seemed to grow as they scanned Merlin’s face. “When you’re broken, I will greatly enjoy taking you.” His breath was hot over Merlin’s face, and he couldn’t repress the shiver of disgust that ran through his body as Lott leaned in and bit the joint between Merlin’s neck and his shoulder. There was a moment of pain as Lott’s teeth sunk deeply into his flesh, but it was gone soon after. “Merek, see to it that his face remains mostly untouched. I want him still pretty when I take him to bed.” With that, he turned and left. 

Merlin took gasping breath as he watched the king leave. The burning may have stopped but the aftershocks of pain radiated throughout Merlin’s entire body. In an effort to maintain whatever dignity he had left he hastily moved to wipe his tears away. Merek caught his attention then, as he stalked closer. Upon closer inspection, Merlin noticed what he had in his hands. In one, he held the nine-tailed whip—his personal favorite—and in the other was a dagger. He smiled that wicked smile as he stood inches from Merlin’s face. “Shall we begin?” 

****  
Arthur threw another chair across the room. It had been a month. A whole month since Merlin’s capture, and Arthur and the knights were no closer to finding him. He was mostly likely in Lott’s dungeons, but with all his men still parked on the border, getting to the castle would be an impossible feat without starting a war. That fact seemed to be weighing on them all. Gwen seemed more solemn than usual, the loss of one of her most cherished friends seemingly the only thing on her mind these days. The head knights were constantly at each other’s throat angry at themselves for failing. And Arthur seemed to be the worst of all. There are so many different feelings sitting heavy in his chest that he couldn’t sort through them all. The primary one seemed to be anger though. It’s how he spent most of his days. He was angry that he had to spend so much time on things that didn’t pertain to getting Merlin back. He was angry at training, angry at council sessions, angry at townsfolk for having stupid problems they couldn’t solve on their own. Mostly he was angry at himself—for allowing this to happen, for being so slow in rescuing Merlin, for being too cowardly to admit how he felt earlier. There was a lot of anger. He’d broken a few chairs over the past couple of weeks, in his anger. He wrecked his room on more than one occasion over the course of the month. 

A knock on his door tore him out of his angry tirade. Arthur quickly smoothed his tunic, set down the chair that had found his way into his grasp, and called out a “come in.” Leon stepped through the door then, shutting it behind him before coming to a rest in front of Arthur’s table. Arthur watched as his eyes scanned through room quickly. It was hardly the first time Leon had caught his room in such a state recently, and if things continued the way they were, it would hardly be the last. Arthur had stopped being embarrassed about it. “What information do you have for me, Sir Leon?”

“Reports have come in from the East patrols that Lott’s men are retreating from the border. More and more garrisons begin their journey back to the heart of the Escetir every day. Sneaking over the border with a few men will be much easier now, and if we hurry we may be able to reach the castle before most of the garrisons return. If Merlin is being held in Lott’s castle, now will be the best time for a rescue.” 

Hope filled Arthur’s chest. They’d been waiting for an opportunity like this to arise for the past four weeks. Lott’s men had refused to unpack themselves from Camelot’s border, but now, with them in retreat back to the Escetir’s citadel, Arthur could sneak over the border and into the castle with a couple of men. He smiled a bit at the plan that was already forming in his brain. “Leon, gather Percival and Gwaine and meet me in the council chambers. We’ll discuss the plan when we get there.” Leon dipped into a bow and swiftly made his way out of the door. 

Ten minutes later, Arthur, Gwen, and the three head knights were gathered in the council chambers. “It seems the chance to rescue Merlin has presented itself. With Lott’s garrisons in retreat to the citadel, we know have the ability to get across the border into Lott’s territory unseen, and with the garrison’s as large as they are, they will be forced to move slowly. If we plan this right, we may be able to reach the citadel before most of the men return.” The knights all nodded in agreement. “This is a rescue mission, one that requires the utmost stealth. We cannot risk Merlin’s life by bringing extra men. This mission is one the four of us must undertake alone. It will be dangerous. I wouldn’t blame you if you’ve changed your mind.”

“I think we all agree that Merlin is worth it. We’re coming with you.” Gwaine was staring at him, fierce determination in his eyes, and Arthur nodded his thanks in return. 

“We need to be prepared for the state Merlin will be in. Percival and Gwaine, I don’t know what you know of Lott, but he’s brute, and a power-hungry one at that. Merlin would not have given into Lott’s demands—he’s always been stubborn. Lott will have done everything he can to try and break him.” Arthur choked a bit as his words registered in his brain. If Merlin was still alive, he would not be the same. He would not return as the cheerful, annoying, and stubborn man that he always had been since Arthur had known him. Though Arthur had finally come to terms with his feelings towards his manservant, he realized that the man he had grown to love may never be the same. “I fear what Lott has done to him. Merlin may be the strongest man I know, but even he wouldn’t be able to withstand a month of torture. If he’s still alive, he will not be the same.” The knights nodded solemnly, and Gwen cast slightly tearful and sad eyes to Arthur’s face. 

“You don’t need to go, Arthur. There will be plenty of men who would go in your place.” She said it hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. To be fair, his emotions had been all over the place the past month. He couldn’t blame her for her caution. 

“I know I don’t need to go, Gwen.” For some reason, Arthur found it hard to remove his eyes from where they were staring intently at the table. “But for me…and for Merlin, I have to go. I need to make this right, and he needs to know that I care about him enough to rescue him from a brutal slave owner who dares call himself king. I know I have men who could and would willingly do it for me, but this is something I must do.” She nodded in understanding and placed a comforting hand on his arm. Arthur gulped again, reigning in the tears once more, before jumping to his feet. “We leave a first light.” The knights rose, each giving a respectful bow before turning and leaving the room. As the door shut behind them, Arthur released a sigh. 

He wasn’t even aware that he had made his way over to his bed until he was sitting on it. He was staring at the floor as he unconsciously slid his hand under his pillow to grab the fabric he’d shoved under it a few weeks ago. He twisted the red neckerchief around his hands, stopping every few seconds to gently run his fingers over the soft fabric. He’d found it, a couple days after Merlin’s capture. He hadn’t allowed any of the servants in to clean his room after his first rampage the day they had returned without Merlin. He’d refused to let anyone serve him—it wouldn’t be right if it wasn’t Merlin. He’d noticed the neckerchief as he was sitting on the edge of his bed. It was laying partially under Arthur’s bedside table, looking out of place despite the messiness of the room. He’d grabbed the thing as soon as he spotted it. It had made Merlin’s absence even more noticeable, and despite how hard he tried he couldn’t prevent the sobs that had wracked his body. That’s where Gwen had found him, kneeling on the ground next to his bed, cradling an old neckerchief to his chest, and crying. She had just sunk down next to him and held him. He’d kept the thing under his pillow ever since as a reminder of what he is fighting for.

He could feel Gwen watching him from her seat, and it didn’t take long for him to hear her rise from her chair and make her way towards him, her heels clacking softly on the stone floor and her dress rustling quietly as she moved. A few seconds later, the bed dipped beside him as she daintily sat down next to him. “Arthur?” She gently took his hand in hers, trapping the neckerchief between them. A tear slipped down Arthur’s face against his will.

“He could be dead.” He choked again on the emotion that swelled in his chest at the admittance. “It’s been weeks, for all we know Lott could’ve killed him.”

“He’s alive, Arthur. We have to believe he’s alive. You said it yourself, Merlin is the strongest man we know. If anyone can survive this long, it’s him.”

“I can’t lose him, Gwen. I can’t. He’s…he’s everything to me, and I didn’t even realize it until he was gone. I treated him like an idiot for years. He was loyal and brave and noble and never once did he doubt me or give up on me, and I treated him like dirt. I never told him that he was my most trusted advisor and my one true friend…I just let him think that I thought he was useless. I don’t deserve him.”

“Merlin’s always believed in you, Arthur. He’s always known who you were deep down. You may not have told him what he means to you, but I’m sure he knows. He wouldn’t have stuck around for so long if he didn’t. You’ll see him again, Arthur, and you’ll get to tell him how much you care for him. Don’t give up on him now.” She squeezed his hands gently once, before releasing them and rising to her feet. “Try to get some sleep. You’ll be no good to Merlin if you’re exhausted.” Arthur did not look up as she quietly made her way out of the room. 

****

Despite his best efforts, Arthur did not sleep. He made his way to the courtyard, where Gwen had informed him the knights were waiting for him. She’d helped him, quickly, into his armor and was now walking beside him. “The council’s still not happy with your decision to go, Arthur. They think you’re being reckless. They don’t understand why you’d risk your life for a lowly servant.”

“I told you before, Guinevere, I don’t care what they think. Merlin’s my responsibility, and he’s never been just a servant to me.” 

“I know that, Arthur. I do. I’ll handle the council while you’re gone.” At this point, the pair had made it to the top of the steps leading to the courtyard. “The only thing you need to worry about is Merlin. I’ll take care of everything here. Just bring him back.” 

Arthur turned to his wife. “Thank you, Gwen. Really. For everything.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Arthur.”

“Yes there is. You’ve always been one of the few people who have supported me unconditionally. You’ve been a great queen and even better friend. Merlin’s capture has shown me just how much I take people for granted. I’m sorry our relationship has become what it is, but I thank you for your undying support despite it.”

“It’s my pleasure to be your friend and your queen. I realize now that our relationship never would have worked. Merlin has always been your other half. I knew that before we were ever together.” Percival called his name from the bottom of the steps, a signal that they needed to get going. “Go, Arthur. Go save him.” She gave him a warm smile and a gentle shove towards the stairs. “Bring him home.”

Arthur gave a curt nod then hastily made his way down the stairs. “You all ready?” The knights nodded. “Good.” Without hesitation, Arthur mounted his mare—who was actually Merlin's normal mount, but if anyone of the knights noticed they didn't say anything about it. He gave a quick look around, checking his knights were all ready to leave. Pleased when he received nods in return, he turned Llamrei around and nudged her with his heels, leading her out of the castle at a gallop—the three knights horses thundering behind him.

****

Merlin couldn’t remember the last time he’s felt the sunlight on his skin. He had a small window in the back wall of his cell, to count the passing of the days, but it had been so long since he’d felt the sunlight on his face. He missed it. It would be summer soon, and Merlin would give anything to be outside in the warm summer sun. It made him think of Arthur. He’d always thought that the summer sun always made Arthur look ethereal. He shook his head, forcing the image from his brain. Over his time in Lott’s cells, he’d rarely allow himself to think of his friends in Camelot. It only made his heart hurt and long to be back in Camelot. It had been one month and five days stuck in these stinking dungeons, and though he was ashamed to admit it, he’d long since given up hope of rescue. 

The sun was rising steadily through the bars in his window, and Merlin knew it’d only be a matter of minutes before Merek would saunter in. He swayed slightly in his place in the middle of the cell. His shoulders ached in their sockets at the uncomfortable position. He hadn’t been allowed much reprieve from his hanging position since he was strung up a week after his capture. He briefly and hazily remembers being brought to Lott’s throne room a week back. Lott had tried to force him to use his magic to kill a traitor. He’d had Merlin dragged up the stairs and to the throne room. He’d been thrown across the stone at Lott’s feet, and told that if he didn’t kill this man, he’d never leave those cells. Lott had uttered a spell, and the collar around his neck drew up his magic, and Merlin had realized, in horror, that the spell and the collar’s runes would allow Lott to control his magic whether Merlin wanted him to or not. It had taken what strength he’d had left to fight it, and he’d stared defiantly at Lott as the collar burned his skin and pulled on his magic. Lott had given up after a few minutes, killed the traitor himself, and ordered Merlin to be taken back to his cell. Since then, besides Merek’s daily torture sessions, Merlin’s been left alone. 

He was on the verge of unconsciousness, when the cell door swung open, and Merek entered. He carried a new instrument this time. It looked similar to a fire poker, but the end of it was different. Upon closer inspection, Merlin noticed the shape at the end was that of Lott’s royal crest—two reared stallions facing each other in the midst of a fight to the death. It took him much longer to register that it was a brand—the type used to brand castle horses and livestock—and with a shiver, Merlin felt dread settle in his chest. He was so focused on the rod, he missed Merek’s monologue about what it did and how it worked and how much he would enjoy inflicting pain on him. Merlin forced himself to focus as his body fought to shut down. 

Merlin vaguely registered Merek muttering a spell as the brand turned red with heat. Merlin’s tunic had long since been discarded, the fabric only getting in the way of Merlin’s skin, so Merek had no trouble pressing the brand’s hot seal to Merlin’s side. Merlin screamed as Lott’s seal burned into his skin, flesh bubbling beneath the heat. He struggled against the chains to get away from the hot press of metal against his side, but his efforts proved futile as his toes barely touched the ground. Seconds, minutes, hours (Merlin didn’t even know anymore) later the brand was removed. Though it was no longer pressed to his side, his flesh still burned and his screams turned to whimpers. Merlin wished silently that he was dead—it wasn’t the first time Merlin had thought it since he’d been trapped in this cell, but it was the first time that he actually wanted it to happen and hadn’t been ashamed that he’d thought it. Pain wracked his body, and he felt himself begin to slip into unconsciousness. His mind caught the sound of steel on steel, some sort of sword fight in the distance, before the pain took over and he slipped into unconsciousness. 

****

The reached Escetir’s citadel within five days. Arthur had forced the knights to a stop a mile from the city’s lower town. They’d tied their horse down, in a lush part of the forest where they were unlikely to be spotted from the castle’s wall or turrets, and he hoped that they would have Merlin before a patrol came through and found them. Once the horses were tied down and the knights had strapped on their swords, Arthur led the way through the trees towards the lower town. He’d spent many days studying maps of the citadel, and now, it seemed, the knowledge he learned would prove fruitful. At the edge of the forest, Arthur paused. “There’s a small gate, on the east side of the castle, hidden in a trench. According to Gaius, it’s used for transporting prisoners of war directly into the cells. I intend to use that entrance to break into the dungeon.”

“But, sire, will it not be locked? We’ll have a hard time breaking into it if Lott has it locked?” 

“I know Lott’s type. He’s arrogant. He thinks that because he managed to wrestle Cenred’s kingdom into some semblance of peace after Cenred’s death that he is a king. I assure you he is far from it. He’s a brute, but he is not a statesman. His arrogance will allow us direct access to his cells. He’ll think that because the gate is hidden by the trench that no one will know of its existence. He will be smart enough to have stationed guards, but I can almost say with certainty that it will already be unlocked.” He turned around to face his knights once more. “This is your last chance to turn back.” The three knights just gave him incredulous looks in return. “Right. Follow me, then.” 

Arthur led them all silently along the tree line for another three minutes before coming to a rest. He scanned the trench surrounding the castle looking for any indication of the secret gate’s location. A few seconds later, Arthur noticed movement. As he focused, he could just make out the tops of two helmets and the gate. “Leon, Percival, see if you can sneak along the tree line. Try to get a drop on those guards without them seeing you.” There were no words in response, but Arthur heard two men sneaking through the branches on either side of him. Two minutes later, Arthur watched as the two helmets disappeared, and Percival’s hand signaled them to approach. Arthur and Gwaine, with Percival’s signal, crept silently from the forest and down into the trench. Arthur came to a stop in front of the wrought iron gate and slipped his sword into his scabbard. “Everyone ready?”

Gwaine responded with a roll of the eyes and a sarcastic retort. “We’ve been ready for a month now, princess, let’s get this over with.”

Arthur gripped the bars and pulled. The gate, though rusty on it hinges, opened easily with a screech. Pulling free his sword again, Arthur made his way into the tunnel. Luckily for them, torches were lit and already placed throughout the hallways. The knights were silent as they navigated the various tunnels and hallways, Arthur at the head of the group. The tunnel’s under Escetia were a maze, and no matter how long he had looked at those maps, Arthur couldn’t remember the route to the dungeons. 

They’d been walking for several minutes with no sign as to which way they needed to go when a gut-wrenching scream echoed through the halls. Arthur stopped in his tracks causing the three knights to bumble into his back. Though there was no distinguishing characteristics to the scream, but Arthur knew, deep down in his bones, that it was Merlin. It caused his heart to beat painfully in his chest. He’d never heard Merlin scream like that, and for a moment, Arthur could only stand there, dumbfounded and heartbroken, but then the scream stopped. For a long moment, Arthur stood still, afraid to see Merlin in whatever state he would be in. He didn’t think his heart could take it, but as the silence continued, Arthur forced himself out of his thoughts. Merlin needed him. 

He turned down the next tunnel, Merlin’s scream echoing in his brain. He was so distracted he nearly missed the Escetian guard’s sword, but luckily his instincts kicked in. It didn’t take long for the skirmish to end. There had only been three guards in that hallway, but it was a good sign. They were getting closer to Merlin. Arthur heard the thump of the third guard hitting the floor, and made to move forward; however, the ringing of their swords must have alerted the rest of the cells guards, as more men came pouring into the hallway from the tunnel to Arthur’s left. Arthur glanced back at his knights, each one giving him a nod in return. “On me!” 

Arthur rushed down the tunnel, dodging the first guard and throwing him back towards his knights. He met the second with a parry, and before long Gwaine was at his side, handling the guards to Arthur’s right. The tunnels were thin, barely wide enough for the two of them to fight side by side. Leon and Percival were following behind, ready to dispatch whichever men Gwaine and Arthur managed to throw behind them. 

Ten minutes later, the last of the Escetian guards slumped to the ground as Gwaine pulled his sword free from his chest. Arthur rested a moment, breathing heavily to catch his breath, as he waited for more men to come around the corner. When none did, Arthur threw an uncertain look back at the other’s before slowly making his way further into the dungeons, his knights following closely. As they moved through the hallway, the stone walls became cells, and Arthur’s heart leapt at the fact that he was getting close. 

It took them less than five minutes to find the right cell. The two guards in front of it stared at the group in confusion before hastily making a charge for them. Arthur dodged their blades easily enough, and he heard Leon and Percival step up to strike them down. Arthur strode up to the cell, coming to rest right outside the door as he heard the sound of the two guards hitting the floor. His heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted him. Merlin’s body was a mixture of different wounds in different states of healing. His body hung precariously from the ceiling. He appeared to be unconscious, at the moment, and Arthur couldn’t help but to be thankful he got that reprieve.

“King Arthur I assume?” At the sound of a man’s voice, Arthur looked away from Merlin and scanned the rest of the cell. A man, stood in the back corner, had a wicked grin on his face as he spoke from the shadows. “Lott knew you would come, eventually, but I must say it took you much longer than he had anticipated.”

“Yes, well, he didn’t exactly make it easy for me.” 

“I’m sure you can understand why. Lott does not like to make it easy for people to steal his property.”  
“  
Merlin is not property.”

“I think you’ll find that he is.” The man took a step forward, placed his arms on Merlin’s shoulders, and viciously wretched him to the side. A whimper made its way out of Merlin’s mouth, but he remained unconscious. There, in the pale light, Arthur could see a burn. It was fresh and raw, and it took Arthur a while to register the shape, but as soon as he did, his stomach rolled violently. The bastard had branded him—like livestock. Lott’s royal seal was burned into Merlin’s left side, right at the bottom of his ribcage. Rage shot through Arthur’s body, and for the first time in a month, Arthur let it consume him completely. At that moment, Gwaine unlocked the cell door with a soft click, and the smile that had made its way onto that wicked man’s face vanished instantly. 

“Percival, Gwaine, please get Merlin down and carry him back to the horses. Leon and I will follow shortly. I have business that needs attending to first.” The man backed slowly into the corner again, a hint of fear in his eyes, as Percival and Gwaine made quick work of the shackles around his wrists. Another whimper escaped Merlin’s mouth as Percival took him into his arms, but mercifully, he remained unconscious. Just before they left, Arthur heard Gwaine say “make him pay” before their footsteps faded. 

Arthur strolled into the cell, his face the perfect mask of politeness, but the man was no fool, and he could sense Arthur’s anger rolling off in waves. Arthur watched as the man’s eyes dashed to the table in the opposite corner, wondering whether or not he could arm himself somehow, but it only took him a few seconds to realize that he was well and truly trapped. Arthur placed himself between the man and the cell’s door, and he watched in glee as the man’s eyes widened in fear. Arthur was going to make this man pay for what he did to Merlin. He sheathed Excalibur, and instead, removed a dagger from its setting in his boot. He gave the man multiple slashes across his chest. They were deep and painful, but none would lead to death. The man was breathing hard, and his face was scrunched with pain. Arthur gave him one last glare. With no hesitation, Arthur plunged the dagger deep into the man’s side, in the space between the ribs on his right side. The man spluttered and sunk to the ground as soon as Arthur removed it. The man was sure to die, but Arthur had made sure that it would be a very slow and very painful death. He wiped his dagger on the man’s tunic before turning a striding out of the cell. “Let’s go, Leon. Merlin needs us to get back to Camelot as quick as possible.” Leon just nodded and followed Arthur as he strolled back down the corridors toward the forest.

It took Arthur and Leon significantly less time to make their way out of tunnels than it did for them to make their way in. Within ten minutes, the king and first knight had made their way back to the horses where Percival and Gwaine had gently laid Merlin on the ground. Arthur unwillingly and unknowingly sank to his knees, his hands hovering uncertainly above the broken body of his servant, his advisor, his friend, his…something. In the daylight, Merlin’s broken body looked even worse. There were burns of different shapes and sizes scattered around his entire torso. Cuts adorned his entire body, all in various stages of healing and of various depths, some fresh enough to still be bleeding profusely Arthur noted, as the gash that extended from Merlin’s right hip to just below his right armpit bled, somewhat pathetically, onto the grass. The most noticeable marks, though, were unmistakable. There were deep lashes crisscrossing his entire body. They, too, were in various stages of healing, but the depth of them, they pattern they created across Merlin’s body were instantly recognizable—Merlin had been whipped, repeatedly. That man had repeatedly and mercilessly flogged Merlin until his servant’s body was nothing more than a tapestry of each session. That was the only part of it. It took a few moments for Arthur to register the bite mark on the junction of Merlin's neck and a mixture of white hot rage and despair shot through his body. He was going to kill Lott for what he'd done to Merlin, for marking him and branding him like property. He was so enraged, Arthur couldn’t even register the dislocated joints, broken bones, or anything else. He just stared at the abused body in front of him. 

It took him a moment, to shake the pain, despair, and anger from his mind. He needed to focus on saving Merlin, who was nearly naked, battered, and unconscious in front of him—who needed his help now more than ever. A reflection caught his eye, and that’s when Arthur noticed the thin collar around Merlin’s neck. “The collar?”

Percival spoke softly. “We’ve tried everything, Sire, but it won’t come off. There’s no key hole of any sort and it’s on too tight to get a solid grip. We’ll have to wait until Camelot.”

Arthur could only nod, too stunned to respond. With one quick shake of his head, he got to work. He reached over his horse, and grabbed his cloak, the Pendragon crest blinking in the sunlight. “Percival, lift him for me will you? We need to wrap him up. We can rest once we get back into Camelot, but we need to leave before Lott’s men find the trail of bodies we left in the dungeons.” 

“Sire,” Leon began “It’s improper for anyone but the king to wear your cloak. Perhaps you should use one of ours.”

“It will be mine.”

“But sire—”

“Not another word, Leon. I know what’s proper and what’s not, but right now I could care less. Merlin has never let what is proper stand in his way. Merlin is…Merlin is special, propriety be dammed.” Leon nodded, and Arthur turned away. “Percival, will you please.” He nodded toward Merlin. Percival bent down and gently lifted Merlin’s prone body, and Arthur tenderly and lovingly, though he would deny it should anyone point it out, wrapped Merlin in his cloak. “He’ll ride with me.” Leon looked like he wanted to say something again, probably about how improper it is for another to ride the king’s horse, especially with the king on it, but he just shut his lips again and untied his horse. Arthur, gingerly, settled Merlin on his saddle. He nearly slid off, his body having no strength to stay upright once the chains that had been holding him up had been removed. Arthur gently caught him before he made it too far off the saddle. Arthur had to fight back tears as the boy let out a pained sound as his body collided with Arthur’s own. 

“Sire, he won’t be able to stay on the saddle without aid.” Percival spoke softly.

“I’ll hold him. I’ll just need one of you to untie Llamrei from the branch for me.” 

“We should tie him to the saddle, just in case.” 

“No, Leon. I do not want to risk worsening his wounds, especially since we don’t have the time to clean them right now. Once we get back into Camelot’s borders and have the time to stop, we can tend to them as best as possible, but until then, no restraints.” At this point, Arthur looked back to Merlin, who was still being held up on the saddle by Arthur’s hands. He was so weak, so frail, and Arthur wanted to murder Lott for what he’d done, but he simply shook his head and mounted Llamrei, who knickered a bit at Merlin’s and Arthur’s combined weight, but otherwise did nothing. Arthur had gifted Merlin the mare when he saw how truly horrible he was at riding. Her gentle temperament had made Llamrei the perfect horse for such an abysmal horseman. Merlin had fallen in love with her the moment he saw her. Arthur had fought it was only fitting to bring her on this rescue mission, and if he wanted to be closer to Merlin in anyway possible, well, no one had to know.

“The reins, Leon.” Within a few seconds, Leon had the mare’s reins untied from the tree limb and in Arthur’s hands in seconds. A few moments later, the rest of the knights were mounted and ready to leave. He gripped Merlin as gently as he could manage, but secure enough to not only stay on the saddle but also fill the hole that had been in Arthur’s chest since he was taken. With a deep breath, he urged Llamrei forward.


	7. Fear and an Olive Branch

They travelled in silence. They needed to get over the border, quickly, before they were spotted, and they needed to tend to Merlin’s wounds as soon as possible. Without treatment, Merlin surely wouldn’t make it back to Camelot. Arthur’s chest tightened at that thought, and he gripped Merlin’s body just a little closer. He can’t lose him, not now. He won’t lose him. They’d been traveling for nearly two hours and only had about an hour or so until they were back over the border, when Merlin began to stir. At first, Arthur had thought he’d imagined it, the slight movement of Merlin’s head against his shoulder, but seconds later he started thrashing in Arthur’s arms, small cries coming out of his mouth. “Merlin? Merlin!”

“Let me go! Let me go! Please, no more.” He was thrashing wildly now, struggling to break free of Arthur’s arms and the cloak. His thrashing was throwing Arthur off balance, and the movement was causing Llamrei to fidget as she walked, clearly on her way to bucking them off. If Merlin didn’t stop thrashing and screaming, they’d surely be discovered. 

“Everyone stop. Help me get him down. He needs to calm down, and I can’t calm him down from here.” At his command, Gwaine, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since Lott’s dungeons, and Percival quickly dismounted their geldings and took Merlin from Arthur’s mare. They gently lowered him back to the ground just as Arthur and Leon dismounted themselves. Merlin was still thrashing wildly, though with the way he’d been wrapped in Arthur’s cloak, his arms were stuck to his sides, so he just writhed on the floor. 

“Please stop. Please. I can’t take it anymore. I’ll do whatever you want.” Arthur watched Merlin struggle, eyes vacant and unseeing, as he repeated those words over and over again. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of Merlin—strong, brave, loyal Merlin—rolling on the ground and crying and whimpering. 

He gently approached Merlin, careful to avoid any types of touch. He’d seen torture victims before, and most of them did not react well to touch. “Merlin? Merlin? It’s me. It’s Arthur.” 

He stopped writhing, blinking slowly a few times. “Arthur?”

“Yeah, idiot, it’s me.”

Finally, Merlin’s eyes met Arthur’s. “You’re a good dream, Arthur. You’re always a good dream.” Something in Arthur broke at those words, and his eyes filled with tears. He choked them back best he could. 

“I’m not a dream, Merlin. I’m really here. I rescued you from Lott’s dungeons. Look above you, Merlin, you’re in a forest.” Arthur and the knights watched as Merlin’s eyes drifted upwards from Arthur’s face to look above him.. 

He lifted the corner of his mouth briefly, then said. “There’s the sun. I missed it.” He sounded so much like a child that the tears Arthur had been trying to suppress slowly slipped down his cheeks. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Merlin’s eyes drift back to his face. “Arthur, You’re really here?”

“Yeah, I’m really here.” He hesitantly placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and tried not to cry again when Merlin flinched slightly. “I’m going to get you back to Camelot. I’m going to bring you home.” Merlin nodded slightly before his eyes closed again as he passed out, and Arthur noticed that Merlin’s pale complexion grew even paler. 

“Arthur” Leon spoke from somewhere behind him. “All his thrashing reopened his wounds again. We need to treat him.”

He watched Merlin’s chest rise a fall with each shallow and strained breath. “Everyone back to the horses. We need to move quicker.” Silently, Arthur made his way back to Llamrei who had spent the whole encounter grazing. He quickly mounted her and as soon as the reins were in his hand Percival and Gwaine placed Merlin in front of him without question. They nodded to him before making their way to their geldings and climbing into their saddles. “Push the horses as fast as they’ll go.” He gripped Merlin to his chest and kicked Llamrei into a gallop.

Forty minutes later saw the four knights dismounting the panting horses, just barely over the border, and gently lowering Merlin onto the ground. “It’ll be nighttime soon enough, and with the state he’s in, we can’t risk moving him. Make camp. We’ll dress his wounds best we can tonight and ride for Camelot tomorrow.” There were muttered affirmations as the knights set out in different directions. Arthur sunk to his knees next to Merlin’s shivering body. “Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry.” He gently laid a hand on Merlin’s forehead and swiped some of his hair off his forehead. It’d grown quite long in the time since Arthur had last seen him, brushing the tops of his eyebrows and ears. It made him look older, and Arthur's heart ached that it had taken so long to rescue him. He was startled out of his thoughts by Gwaine, who gently sat down next to him. 

“Arthur.” Gwaine put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Leon and Percival got the camp set up. There’s a small fire and the bedrolls are laid out. We should move him over there. He needs the warmth, and Leon’s gone back out to try to catch us some food.” Arthur nodded in response, still too focused on the unconscious man in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gwaine look over his shoulder. “Percy? A hand?” Arthur heard the man rise and begin to tromp over from some distance behind them, but he quickly placed a hand on Gwaine’s arm. 

“Don’t. I’ll do it.” He hesitated slightly. The last thing Arthur wanted was to cause Merlin more pain, but he couldn’t bear to be parted from the man for one more second. After a few seconds, he gently scooped Merlin into his arms. Merlin was lighter than Arthur had anticipated, and he nearly buckled as he realized that Merlin probably hadn’t been fed except for what was necessary to keep him alive. He kept it together long enough to gently place Merlin by the fire, but as soon as Merlin was placed securely on a bedroll, Arthur turned and stalked off into the forest. 

He didn’t wander far, too aware of the fact that he was still king and needed to be close to his knights, but he ventured far enough that he was out of sight. As soon as he was, his knees hit the ground. Something wet landed on his ungloved hand, and he looked up to check whether or not it had started raining. When all he saw was a cloudless night sky, it took him a moment to realize he was crying. He seemed to be doing a lot of that recently. How could he let this happen. How could he let this happen? He should’ve been more cautious, should’ve listened to Merlin when he’d said it was probably a trap. He shouldn’t have let Merlin out of his sight, and he damn well should have made sure Merlin had known how much he meant to Arthur before all this happened. It was all his fault. All of this had happened because he hadn’t been paying attention. He should’ve been there. 

Soft footfalls alerted him to another person’s presence. He quickly swiped at his eyes, there were few people he’d ever let see him in such a state—one was back in Camelot, probably worried sick about her friend and husband, and the other was lying a few yards away unconscious and broken and bleeding because of Arthur’s mistake. “Leon’s back with some rabbits, Sire.” Gwaine was speaking softly, tentatively, and it was so out of character for the normally boisterous knight that for a second Arthur almost didn’t recognize his voice, but despite that, Arthur refused to move at Gwaine’s not-so-subtle attempt to bring him back to the camp. He just stared at the darkening sky and listened to the sounds of the woods. Gwaine’s weight shifted behind him, and though he couldn’t see him, Arthur knew Gwaine was hesitating. “It’s not your fault, Arthur.” Arthur only scoffed. “I know that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“Am not.” 

“You’re not to blame. None of us are. No matter what we think.” 

“I should’ve been watching him, Gwaine. I shouldn’t have left him alone.”

“We had no reason to know that they were after him, and from what you told me about his magic, he can usually fend for himself.” 

“He was distracted because of me.” Arthur was nearly shouting now. Frustrated that Gwaine didn’t take the hint and leave him alone. “Gwaine, he was saving my life just before he was taken. He was kidnapped because of me!” 

“He was kidnapped because the cowards who took him snuck up behind him, they didn’t have the courage to face him. It could’ve happened to any of us.” 

“He doesn’t deserve this. He never deserved this. He spent his whole life in Camelot protecting me, protecting the whole kingdom without any credit. He’s spent his whole life here afraid of execution. The least I could’ve done was keep him safe.” Arthur finally got back to his feet, but he stayed with his back to Gwaine. He didn’t want Gwaine to see him crying, which despite his best attempts refused to stop falling. “I should’ve acknowledged everything he did immediately after he told me. I should have given him the recognition he deserved. Maybe then this whole situation with Lott could’ve been avoided.” 

“There’s no use dwelling on what we could have or should have done, mate, it’s too late for that. All we can do is focus on what’s going on right now.” Though he didn’t want to admit it, Gwaine was speaking some sense. With great reluctance, Arthur turned to face him, disregarding the fact that he had dried tear tracks on his face and still wet eyes. “What’s going on right now is that Merlin’s alive. He’s alive, and he needs our care and support.” Arthur nodded in agreement. “C’mon, your highness, Leon’s cooking dinner and Percy’s working on Merlin’s injuries. We can rest tonight, and if we hurry, we can be back in Camelot tomorrow night.” Arthur took one gathering breath, wiped his face best he could, and followed Gwaine back to camp.

**** 

The journey back to Camelot took longer than they had anticipated. Merlin’s broken and emaciated body required frequent stops for as much medical care as the four of them could provide. It was the second night of the journey, and Camelot was only a few hours away. Merlin hadn’t regained consciousness since that first time, and it was making Arthur even more anxious than he already was. Though they had tried their best to reach Camelot within the day, the frequent stopping and slow pace had forced them to camp until dawn. 

As soon as they stopped and had Merlin settled relatively comfortably, Arthur had grabbed a crossbow, muttering something about catching dinner, and stalked away into the forest. He needed time alone and a way to vent his frustrations besides yelling at his knights. He didn’t even try hunting at first, he just swung his sword into the nearby trees. He knew, in the back of his mind, that it would only damage his blade and render it useless, but after seeing the extent of Merlin’s injuries the night before he had no other outlet for his grief and anger. As soon as he tired himself out (and nearly broken his hand when his sword getting stuck in the wood caused him lash out with his fists at the offending tree) he managed to find a few rabbits and make his way back into the camp. 

He’d been gone too long, he knows, but graciously the others didn’t say anything about it. Arthur just dropped the rabbits into Gwaine’s lap and made his way over to the edge of the camp where Merlin was resting while Percival tended to his wounds. Percival looked up briefly and nodded in acknowledgement before he returned his attention to Merlin’s broken body. As gently as he could, Arthur sat down at Merlin’s head and gently slid his legs to cushion the man’s head and neck. His fingers immediately went to Merlin’s hair. 

A few minutes later, Leon and Gwaine were sitting a few feet away, tending to the rabbits and the fire, laughing quietly and talking, and Arthur realized that he and Percival had been sitting here in silence for quite some time. Arthur had been gently carding his fingers through Merlin’s hair and watching Percival tend to what he could. When they had first stopped last night, Percival hadn’t even hesitated to begin treating Merlin. Arthur had stalked off to have his emotional breakdown, Gwaine had followed, and Leon had gone to hunt. Percival had given Merlin his utmost attention. Though all the knights had a general knowledge of field medicine, Percival had seemed to have knowledge above just cleaning wounds and amateur bandaging. Arthur had been too upset the previous night to have mentioned anything about it, but now, watching Percival tend to Merlin with such care Arthur found his mouth moving of his own accord. “Percival?”

“Yes, sire?”

“How come you know so much about this?”

“What, sire?”

“Caring for Merlin’s injuries. Treating him” 

Percival seemed to hesitate, and the stony mask he usually wore fell a little into something that resembled sadness. “At the round table of the old kings, when you asked us to fight with you, do you remember what I said?”

That was not what Arthur was expecting in reply, but still, he thought back to that day—one of the worst days of his life before Merlin had managed to pull him out of the gutter and raise his spirits. He thought about sitting at that round table surrounded by those he considered his closest friends. He remembers how right it felt when they all slowly rose to support him, one by one standing with him. He remembers Percival, a near stranger, rising to show his loyalty. “You said that my enemies were your enemies.”

“I meant that, Sire, and I still do.” He gave Arthur a small smile before he continued. “When Morgause aligned with Cenred, they scoured the lands looking for men to join the army, if the men refused, their families were slaughtered one by one as incentive.” Arthur’s eyebrows rose. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest, that Cenred and Morgause had been so brutal, but the thought still made him slightly nauseous. Percival’s stony mask had been set back in place, but he still tended to Merlin as gently as he could. “I had a little brother, and he always managed to find himself in the worst kind of trouble. When he was little, he’d come home covered in scrapes and bruises from playing in the woods and getting into squabbles with the other children. As he got older, he’d find himself in even more trouble, always finding himself in fights and brawls that tended to leave him worse for wear, broken bones and stab wounds and the like. Our little village had no physician, I was forced to learn how to care for him myself. My mother was ill and my father had died so it was just the two of us mostly. Thick as thieves we were, even after I got married and my daughter was born.” He dabbed gently at Merlin’s wrist with a cloth and some of Gaius’ cleaning salve he had grabbed before they left. 

“I was traveling when they came to the village—trying to find some seeds to plant for the next harvest and medicine for my mother. Morgause and Cenred asked him to join the army, and he refused.” He gently placed Merlin’s arm back onto the bedroll. He raised his head to meet Arthur’s eyes, and for the first time in the many years he’s known him, Arthur saw the man’s eyes lined with tears and his normally controlled face morphed with grief. “I came back a day later to find them all slaughtered. I vowed I’d never let anything like that happen again.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, Sire.” Arthur went back to smoothing Merlin’s hair and Percival took Merlin’s other wrist in gentle hands to clean it. 

There were a few more minutes of silence before Percival spoke up again, softer this time and with a hint of fondness. “Merlin reminds me of him.”

“Who?”

“My little brother, Urien.”

“How so?”

“Merlin always seems to find himself in trouble, but it’s always for a good cause—usually saving your life. My brother was like that too. All those fights were because he was standing up for what was right and just and fair, and despite all that, everyone who ever met my brother couldn’t help but like him. Merlin’s much the same. As far as I’m aware there were few who ever disliked Merlin. Kid’s the nicest thing you’ll ever meet, and it makes it hard to hate him.” 

“Yeah” Arthur agreed. “The only people who have ever hated him were those who were his enemies, and even then, most of those seemed to have some form of respect for him, however reluctant.” 

Percival gave Arthur a sad look. “He will get better, Arthur. He’s strong.”

Arthur gave him a small smile, just as Gwaine stumbled over with two small plates of rabbit stew and sat down beside them. “Eat up the both of you. Leon spent a whole hour on this delicious stew while the two of you have been over here gossiping like lady courtiers.” Gwaine had some sort of delighted glint in his eye, like he knew something the pair of them didn’t. Arthur narrowed his eyes in suspicion briefly before turning his attention back to the bowl in his hand. Arthur tipped his spoon to Percival before they both took a bite.   
Arthur coughed and spluttered at the taste and wrinkled his nose as the disgusting stew slipped down his throat. “Bloody hell.” Arthur said as he glanced at Percival to find him making a similar disgusted face at his stew. Gwaine burst out laughing at the combined looks of disgust. 

“I said the same thing, but it’s better than nothing.” Arthur gave Gwaine a look before he hesitantly raised the spoon to his lips again. The second bite was worse, and Arthur coughed again once.

“Honestly, Leon” he called across the camp “this stew tastes worse than that rat stew Merlin made me once.” Gwaine burst out laughing again, Percival even chuckled as Leon shot a slightly affronted look back. 

“Yes” Gwaine said when he regained his composer. “Well when Merlin’s back we will all just have to tell him how much we missed his cooking.” He stood up once again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be getting some shuteye now. Don’t want to be falling off my horse on the journey home.” He marched over to his bedroll, plopped down, and five minutes later was snoring, quite noisily, from across the camp. 

Once their stews were finished and Percival had tended to what he could, the rest of the knights bedded down for the night. It didn’t take long for Leon and Percival to drift off, but Arthur found himself nearly wide awake. He was worried about Merlin and what would happen when he woke. Arthur worried about Merlin until he dragged his bedroll a couple of feet to where Merlin was laying, rewrapped in Arthur’s (now bloody) cloak. He plopped himself down next to Merlin’s prone form and laid his hand lightly on his chest, just to be reassured that the man was breathing. He fell asleep to the sound of Merlin’s breaths, Gwaine’s snoring, and the rustle of leaves.

****

They came thundering into the citadel a few hours after dawn. They were met with stares from the citizens as they moved through the lower town, and the people moved hastily to clear the way for them. Merlin rested gently between Arthur’s arms and he was leaned back against his chest, and despite his best efforts, Arthur heard the whispers and murmurs that followed the group of them through the lower town. 

Before long, the sound of hoofbeats on dirt became the sound of hoofbeats on cobblestone as the small company made their way into the citadel. As soon as they reached the steps into the castle, Leon dismounted, throwing his reigns at one of the guards before hurrying into the castle. Arthur remained where he was while Gwaine and Percival dismounted their geldings. They approached his mount and gently took Merlin from Arthur’s arms, allowing him to dismount in turn. A guard was already waiting to take Llamrei’s reigns and Arthur handed them over without even looking. “Gwaine, Percival, take Merlin to Gaius’ chambers. Quick as you can. I’ll alert the Queen and meet you there shortly.” They gave a brisk nod before gently carrying Merlin up into the castle. Arthur heaved a deep sigh, exhaustion and grief sitting on his shoulders seeming to weigh him down. He allowed himself one moment to collect himself, before straightening up and marching into the castle. 

He made it through the castle in record time, making quick work of Camelot’s hallways as he made his way to the council chambers. Gwen would be at the round table with the rest of the nobles. It should be nearly over at this point, but Arthur was about to end it early. He didn’t even have to break stride, the guards to the council room opened the doors for him, and he entered swiftly. “Sorry to intrude my lords, but I’m in need of my wife. Council is dismissed for the day.” The nobles stared at him briefly, disbelief written on their faces before they hesitantly made to leave. Gwen rose from her seat as the nobles filtered out and smiled at his as he made his way towards her. “Gwen.”

“You found him?”

“Yes.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “He should be with Gaius by now.” She smiled as she made her way past him, hurrying to be with her friend. He grasped her arm lightly as she passed. “He’s in a bad way, Gwen, a really bad way. He might never be the same.” Her smile dropped a bit at that, but she nodded sullenly. He watched her pick up her skirt and hastily, although still gracefully, make her way out of the room. He waited until her footsteps were long gone before he turned to follow. He needed some time alone to think, and it seemed this would be the best way to get it. 

Unfortunately for him, the world had other ideas. As soon as he turned back to the door to make his way to Gaius’s chambers, he was intercepted by Lord Amron and two of the older lords. It took great effort for Arthur to repress his eye roll. “Lord Amron, Lord Monty, Lord Kyvell. What can I do for you?” 

“We’re glad to see you returned, Sire. Your wife was not specific about the details of your absence, and we’ve been concerned about your welfare. We do hope that whatever your quest was that it was successful.” Lord Monty was sincere in his speech, but there was an underlying tone that Arthur wasn’t sure he liked.

“The quest was indeed a success, my lords, and I thank you for your concern.” Lord Amron was eyeing him with skepticism and barely concealed disdain. “I apologize for the secrecy, but this was not only a sensitive matter but a personal one. I appreciate your understanding, my lords, but I have other matters to attend to.” Arthur made to move past them out the doors, but Lord Amron took a step forward to prevent his leaving. 

“We do not appreciate the secrecy, Sire. There are many of us who do not enjoy having important information kept from us.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, but I told you before, the situation with Lott was of little concern until there were larger numbers flocking to the border.” Lord Amron’s face didn’t change and the two lords behind him shifted uneasily. “If it will appease the council, I’ll make sure to inform you of such developments in the future. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Where were you these past couple of days, my lord?”

“I told you, Lord Kyvell. The matter was a personal one. It’s no concern of Council.”

“Personal matters should not take you so far from the citadel for such a long time, Sire, and for that reason we would like to know where you’ve been.” 

“Where I’ve been is my business, but I’ll make sure to inform the council in the future if I should be called away.” Arthur stormed through the men, intending to leave this ambush as soon as possible, but Lord Amron spoke again. 

“This is about that worthless servant of yours, isn’t it?” Arthur turned on his heel, the anger he’d been managing to quell quickly overcoming him. “The whole city’s talking about it. You rode into the castle with him on your horse, wrapped in your cloak. You went to get him.”

He couldn’t deny it now, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Yes, Lord Amron, I went to rescue Merlin.”

“You left the citadel in the hands of your lowly peasant queen for over a week just to rescue some worthless serving boy from whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Lord Amron was speaking with a tone of indifference, making Arthur’s blood boil in rage. “I never wanted to believe the rumors, my lord, but there’s no denying it now. You care far too much for that useless boy. The council members have discussed it, we would like him banished from the citadel. You do not think right with him around.” 

Arthur pulled himself to his full height and strode forward, stopping only inches from Lord Amron’s smug face. “You listen to me, my lords. I will not stand for this insolence. I have given you a long leash these past weeks, but I will stand for it no longer. Merlin has been my loyal servant for over a decade. He has been unfailingly loyal with no reason to be. He’s been a wise advisor and faithful servant since the first time I met him, and he’s done more for me and for this kingdom than any of you understand. He may not be of noble blood, but he is of noble heart, and I will not allow the three of you to slander him in such a way. If I ever hear any of you speak about him or the Queen in the manner you just have I will strip you of your lands and titles and banish you from my kingdom.” He took a deep breath. “I believe the three of you should take care to remember who here is king. Now if you’ll excuse me, a dear friend of mine is in the physician’s care because of a situation I put him in.” He took a step back glancing briefly at the three lords in front of him. Lord Kyvell and Lord Monty were both smart enough to look at least slightly cowed, but Lord Amron only looked more angry. “The three of you have disgraced yourselves today. Do not do so again, or I will make good on my threats.” With that he turned and stalked out the council chambers. 

**** 

By the time he was stood outside Gaius’ door his angered had been eclipsed by his worry. He heard movement through the door, and he gave himself one more moment to gather himself and calm down. Merlin needed him now—everything else could wait. He steeled his resolve, pushed aside his guilt and anger, and he entered the chambers with confidence. No one looked up as he stepped inside. Merlin was sprawled on the patients palette, Arthur’s cloak being used as a sort of table cloth. Gaius and Gwen moved about the room fetching potions and bandages from seemingly random locations throughout the room. Percival was sat by Merlin’s table, gently placing a rag against Merlin’s forehead. Gwaine was staring out of the window, stoic and solemn. Leon was sitting at the table near the door, glancing around the room unsure of what to do, but not wanting to leave. 

Arthur hesitantly took a few more steps into the room, drawing the old physician’s attention. “Sire.” He bowed his head slightly before returning his attention to Merlin. 

“How is he?”

“It’s a miracle he’s still alive, Sire. With the severity of his wounds he should have been dead long before now. He’s had no treatment up until he was rescued and many of his wounds are infected.”

“Why is he still alive, then, if he’s in such a bad state?” Gaius looked wearily around the room, resting on the knights. Arthur understood then. “It’s alright, Gaius. Go ahead.”

“His magic is very strong, and I believe that’s the only reason he’s still alive. It’s doing everything it can to keep him breathing, but it’s struggling to maintain whatever threads of life Merlin hanging onto.”

“Why’s that?”

“You see this collar.” Arthur came closer when beckoned and stood silently at Gaius’ side. “It’s made of cold iron, and I suspect that the other chains that held him were of the same.” Arthur watched as Gaius glanced back at him briefly and some of the confusion he was feeling must have showed on his face because Gaius clarified. “Cold iron is one of the few materials that can contain a sorcerer. It hinders their magic, traps it inside their bodies and makes it unusable. Now a warlock with Merlin’s power would have no problems breaking free of such chains, but after close inspection of the collar, I believe the cold iron’s potency was increased with the addition of runes.”

“Runes?”

“Marks of the Old Religion carved into the iron itself. With the removal of his ankle and wrist shackles, his magic was free to move a little more throughout his body, keeping him alive and trying to heal him. It will be trying to heal him as best it can, but unless we can remove this collar around his neck, his magic won’t be able to heal him as it needs to.”

Gwaine spoke up from his place at the window, voicing what Arthur was seconds away from saying himself. “Can you remove it?” 

“I cannot. The collar is magical in nature and only magic can remove it, and even if I was permitted to try, you would need someone of much more power than I possess.” 

“Gaius what can we do?” Gwen’s voice sounded from somewhere across from where Arthur was still stood at Merlin’s side. 

“I’m afraid there’s not much I can do. I’ve given him something for the pain, and Percival’s tending to his fever. Besides keeping his wounds clean, there’s nothing I can do until that collar is off.” 

Arthur found himself speaking before without even realizing he’d made the decision to do so. “Gaius, is there anyone you can think of who could possibly get this collar off?”

“I believe our best bet is the druids. The druids have a great deal of knowledge on some of the most obscure forms of magic. If anyone can help us it’s them.” 

“Alright then. At dawn, Gwaine and I will ride for the woods, last I remember they were dwelling in one of the caves in the Darkling woods. Leon, you will stay here with Gwen. It’ll be your job to protect the citadel while I’m away. I don’t expect to be gone long, but I need someone here who I can trust to protect the castle and my wife.”

“Of course, Sire.”

“Why would I be needing protection, Arthur? Has something happened?” He had not meant to say anything about his confrontation with the three nobles, but it seemed he would have talk about it now. He sighed. This was not a conversation he wanted to have at the moment, but he was too exhausted to even bother putting it off. “Some of the Lords approached me today saying how they disapproved of my decision making recently—particularly those that related to me rescuing a ‘useless servant and leaving the city under the protection of my lowly peasant wife.’ Their words not mine. They even mentioned that the council wanted Merlin banned from the citadel. I don’t think they’ll try anything, but I’d rather have Leon here just in case.” She nodded slowly, but there was anger in her face. “Percival?”

“Yes, sire?”

“You stay here with Gaius, help him care for Merlin.”

“Of course.” 

“Thank you all for your help. It’s getting dark. Return to your chambers, grab some supper, get some rest. It’s been a long couple of weeks.” 

The knights filtered out slowly, each stopping to give Arthur’s shoulder a squeeze of comfort, and Gwen followed shortly after. Within a few minutes, it was just Gaius and Arthur and Merlin left in the quiet chambers. Gaius was puttering around, returning vials to their proper place, and Arthur found himself taking the seat that had been vacated shortly before by Percival. He hesitated slightly, his hands hovering uncertainly over Merlin’s body. He wanted to touch him, needed to touch, to ensure that Merlin was actually real, was really sitting in front of him alive and breathing, but Arthur was too scared. Merlin was broken, his body covered in open wounds and burns and bruises. What if he hurt him? What if Arthur made it worse? He’d never been good at comforting others, that had always been Merlin’s specialty, but right now he needed the comfort and didn’t know how to get it. His thoughts were interrupted by Gaius’ voice. 

“You can touch him, sire.” Arthur raised his eyes, meeting Giaus’ eyes which were staring somewhat incredulously at Arthur’s still hovering hands. “I know he looks bad at the moment, but he’s unconscious and can’t feel a thing. I’ve given him as much pain medication as I could. It should be fine.” Arthur nodded slowly before gently placing his hand on Merlin’s left arm. Almost immediately, and without much thought, his thumb gently swept over the bandages on Merlin’s wrist. For some indeterminable amount of time, to Arthur it felt like hours, it felt like days, Gaius cleared his throat as he sat a chair on the other side from Arthur, and for the first time, Arthur got a good look at the old physician. There were major bags under his eyes, his eyes seemed sunken and his skin sagged more than usual. He looked tired—the kind of tiredness that came from exhaustion and incessant worrying. Arthur knew the feeling. 

“What’s gonna happen tonight with him?”

“I doubt he’ll wake up. His extensive injuries and the trauma should keep him unconscious for a while, but I’ve given him a sleeping draught to keep him asleep through the night at least. I’ll have to monitor his fever tonight. Many of his wounds had signs of infection, and with the collar still on, his body is being put through a lot. His fever will most likely remain until that collar is removed, but if it’s not tended to, it could only make things worse.” With that, he moved towards the bowl and towel at the end of the table, but before he could get anywhere, Arthur stopped him.

“I’ll watch him Gaius.”

“But, sire, you need your rest, especially if you’re going to be up early and traveling tomorrow.”

“Gaius, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep even if I wanted to. I’ll watch over him, you get your rest.” 

“Thank you, sire.” 

“Of course.” Arthur returned his attention to Merlin. He gently dipped the rag into the cool water, ringing it out before laying over Merlin’s forehead. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the candle near Gaius’ bed go out. 

With a gentle hand, Arthur tended to Merlin’s fever until the soft light of early morning was visible through the window. 

**** 

Giaus awoke shortly after the first light, grabbed a quick breakfast, and moved over to the shelves to begin his preparations for the day. Gaius worked in silence as Arthur continued to gently tend to Merlin’s fever. A few moments later, Gwaine stumbled in. “Sire, the horses are ready in the courtyard, and George is just finishing the packing. We’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes.” 

“Thank you, Gwaine. I’ll meet you in the courtyard shortly.” He gave a short bow before exiting the chambers as quickly as he entered them. 

“Gaius…”

“It’s alright, Sire, you may go. I’ll look after him, and I’m certain Percival and Gwen will be here shortly to assist me.” 

“Thank you, Gaius. Please take good care of him til I return with help.”

“I’ll do my best, sire.” Arthur made for the door, but Gaius interrupted him as his hand rested on the door knob. “He’s like a son to me, Arthur, please hurry back.”

“I know how much he means to you. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Gaius gave him a small nod in return before turning back to Merlin and taking the seat Arthur had recently vacated. Arthur took one last glance at Merlin’s prone form before quickly making his way out of the door and down to the courtyard.

Gwaine was already on his mount when Arthur stepped down the stairs, and George gave him a quick nod as he stepped away from Arthur’s mare. “She’s ready for you, sire.”

“Thank you, George. Please tend to Sir Leon and my wife while I’m away. They may need assistance.”

“Of course, Sire.” 

“C’mon princess, let’s get a move on. There’s a damsel in distress that needs our help.” Arthur only rolled his eyes and swung himself up into his saddle. He pulled his mare around and let her at a cant out of the citadel, Gwaine and his gelding following closely behind. 

About thirty minutes from the citadel, Gwaine broke the somewhat uncomfortable silence that had been plaguing them since they’d made their way out of the citadel. “How is Merlin?” 

“He slept or remained unconscious throughout the whole night, and his fever never once seemed to break. Gaius says that it’s normal for someone of Merlin’s talents and his condition to be in that state, but I’m still worried for him. That collar needs to come off soon.” Gwaine nodded his head. “The last time I saw the Druids they were hiding in the caves just over the border of Cenred’s kingdom, but Gaius believes that after his lands fell into chaos upon his death and the destruction of his immortal army that they may have moved closer to, if not into, the woods on Camelot’s northern border.” 

“Ah, yes I remember hearing something about that myself.” Arthur gave him a confused look in return. “I travelled for many years before entering into your service, Arthur. People always talked about the weird behavior of the druids prior to my knighting.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I often heard rumors that the Druids were flocking to the areas around Camelot’s border. It started happening around ten years ago. Apparently they believe that their king is in Camelot somewhere.” 

“The Druids have a king?”

“Like I said, sire, they were just rumors, but that’s the common theme, yes.”

“Hmm.”

They didn’t speak much after that. Arthur was too busy thinking about Merlin, and Gwaine seemed comfortable to let him contemplate. The truth is, ever since Merlin’s rescue, Gwaine had seemed a little more morose and quiet. It unnerved Arthur a little, to see the normally cheerful ad care-free man so subdued. He nearly slapped himself in the face when he remembered that Merlin was one of Gwaine’s best friends. He should’ve realized how much this event affected him sooner. “Are you alright, Gwaine?”

“Me? Of course, sire. Why wouldn’t I be?” Arthur just gave him a stern look. “Alright.” Gwaine heaved a sigh of resignation. “Merlin’s special to me. He was my first real friend, and my only one for a while. It’s hard to see him like this.”

“I understand. It’s hard to see this happen to someone you care about, but we will help him Gwaine, I swear it.”

“I’ve never doubted that, sire. I know what you’d do for him. It’s just…” he heaved another sigh, and Arthur noticed this one was tinged with sadness “to see this happen to Merlin of all people is…”

“Despicable? Horrible? Unforgivable? I know.”

“He’s the best of all of us, and to see something like this happen. It’s shaken me a bit.” 

“I know the feeling, Gwaine.” Gwaine opened his mouth to reply, but before he could make a sound, a rustle of the bushes on their right caused him to shut it abruptly. They maneuvered their horse to the left side of the path and dismounted quietly, both men drawing their swords from their scabbards. Arthur crouched forward—Gwaine following just two steps behind—eyes refusing to stray from the spot where the rustling was occurring. A few seconds later and as the king and his knight approached the right edge of the pathway, a hooded figure emerged from the trees. Though it was not what Arthur was expecting, he refused to let his surprise show on his face. “Declare yourself.” 

“You may lower your sword, Arthur Pendragon. I mean you no harm.” The voice was low, soothing, and distantly familiar, though Arthur couldn’t place his finger on it. 

“I won’t ask again. Declare yourself.”

“I know your quest, noble king.” The figure’s arms slowly raised, and in one swift motion, the hood was removed. Arthur recognized him immediately and shame washed through him as he lowered his sword. “My name is Iseldir. If you recall we have met once before.” Arthur remembered well. The mission for the cup of life and how Arthur had threatened a boy. He’d never been proud of that, but to face it now, with Iseldir’s eyes boring into him in a way that made his insides squirm, so many years later was nearly unbearable.

“Yes, I recall.” 

Iseldir looked briefly over Arthur’s shoulder. “Sir Gwaine, the sword is not necessary. I’m only here to help.” Arthur turned briefly and watched as Gwaine hesitantly lowered his sword. “You come seeking help for Emrys, do you not?”

“We do. He was taken from us, held captive in cold iron, and we can’t find a way to remove the magic binding collar. Gaius thought you might be able to help.” Gwaine’s voice was filled with sadness and rage as he summarized their mission, but Iseldir either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“I’m versed in many forms of magic, a collar such as this should be no trouble.” He locked eyes with Arthur again. “I would be honored to assist Emrys in this way.” Arthur began to smile, but Iseldir’s eyes hardened in a way that froze Arthur’s lips before they could complete the action. “Camelot is no friend to magic users, if I am to come with you I must be guaranteed safety.” Arthur winced slightly. He’d been too busy (read: distraught) over the past month to even work on repealing the ban on magic. In all the time Merlin had been captured, Arthur hadn’t even been able to make it safe for him to return.

“You have my word no harm will come to you. I know my family has gravely wronged your people, and as soon as Merlin is on the mend, I intend to work to remove the ban on magic.” Iseldir only stared. “I know my word does not count for much, but it is all I have to offer for the time being.” 

Iseldir stared a few moments more before dipping his head in a small bow. “Very well, Arthur Pendragon, I will come with you.” Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.


	8. Contradiction of Duties

They arrived back in Camelot just as the sun was setting. As they made their way through the lower town, Arthur and Gwaine pointedly ignored the stares and whispers that followed them. After all, riding into the city with a man who was clearly a druid on the back of one of their horses was bound to cause a stir, but Arthur wasn’t particularly in the right mind to worry about or deal with the rumors that were bound to spread, so he kept his head held high and led his horse at a trot through the city, Gwaine, with a hooded Iseldir, following just behind.

Gwen was waiting on the steps for them, and Arthur swung himself off his saddle before his mare had even come to a complete stop. Her eyes connected with his briefly before landing on something just beyond his shoulder. “You’ve found someone who can help?” Arthur could only half smile in response. 

“George!” Arthur’s temporary manservant appeared from out of nowhere and came to rest at Gwen’s side. “Have a room made up for our guest quick as you can, and make sure it’s in the same wing as mine. I’ve promised no harm will come to him while he is within the citadel, so do try to be discreet.” Arthur didn’t even acknowledge George’s bow and retreat, instead he turned to face Iseldir. He felt Gwen move down a few steps and come to a stop at his side, and Gwaine was standing just behind the druid, who had yet to say a word since he mounted the back of Gwaine’s gelding. “We must make our way inside quickly, before any more rumors spread. To have brought you here so publicly will bring copious amounts of questions, but it’s best for everyone if you’re brought out of sight of those who may wish you harm.” Iseldir only nodded in response. “Gwaine, gather Leon and Percival and, if he can be spared, Gaius. We’ll meet in my chambers.” Gwaine gave a short nod and rushed up the stairs past them, disappearing into the castle. “Come with me.” 

They made short work of the castle hallways, Arthur had set the pace at as near a jog as he could get away with, eager to get the druid leader away from prying eyes and into the safety of the king’s chambers. Servants and guards gave the three of them odd looks as they made their way through the castle, and Arthur knew members of the council were bound to come knocking on his door any minute now to demand explanations. It was in everyone’s best interest if Iseldir was up in Gaius’ quarters tending to Merlin before that happened.

Arthur stepped through the threshold of his chambers first, followed briskly by Gwen and Iseldir, and mere moments later, Gwaine, Leon, and Percival shuffled through as well, Percival making quick work of the lock as they did. “Arthur, Gwaine says you’ve found someone who can help?”

“I have.” Arthur turned from his place at the window beside the hearth to face the room. 

“Gaius?”

“He said Merlin’s in too bad a way to be left alone. We can update him when we make our way up there.”

“Thank you, Leon. Gwen, Percival, Leon, this is Iseldir.” The druid turned and removed his hood. Arthur watched as Leon seemed to freeze a bit, his mouth dropping into a small ‘o’ shape. 

“It’s you.” Leon swallowed hard before he managed to continue. “I never did get to thank you and your people for saving my life. I’ve been indebted to you ever since.”

“It may seem so to you, sir knight.” Iseldir replied in his normal detached and monotone voice. “But life is sacred to the druids, and we expect nothing in return for preserving it. You may feel indebted, but it is a debt that will never be called on for collection.”   
“  
If it’s all the same, I still believe a thanks is in order. You had no reason to use the cup on me, but you did anyway. Thank you for your kindness.” Iseldir nodded to Leon in acknowledgement and then returned his attention to Arthur, who had watched the whole exchange with his mouth slightly agape. 

Arthur shook his head quickly, forcing himself to focus back on the task at hand. “Right. Everyone, Iseldir here says that he can remove that collar from around Merlin’s neck.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Sir Gwaine,” Iseldir replied. “I’m almost certain that I can help. Morgana was a powerful witch, but her teachings were driven by hate—a powerful tool but an incomplete one. While I have no doubt her collar is strong, I sincerely believe that it won’t be able to withstand the knowledge the Druids have collected over the years.” Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. He needed Merlin back.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Iseldir,” Percival’s voice was quiet and almost tentative, but even then, it nearly echoed off the walls with how still the room had become. When Iseldir nodded, Percival continued. “Why help us? Why help Merlin at all?” The real question was plain to all—why would Iseldir endanger himself by coming into the heart of Camelot, a place that, by law, should have him executed just for his presence, to rescue one serving boy? 

“Emrys is important to all of the magical creatures and magic practioners. Without him, there is little hope for the hostility between magic and non-magic to end.” Arthur noted the looks of confusion on everyone’s faces, including himself. In all the conversations he had with Merlin about magic, besides telling Arthur about said prophetic name, Merlin had adamantly refused to explain exactly what he was prophesized to do. He’d always seemed embarrassed by it whenever Arthur asked, and it seemed like now Arthur was about to get that knowledge. Iseldir turned to look directly at Arthur. 

“Emrys is prophesized to be the greatest sorcerer to ever live. While that is the most widespread version spread throughout the magical community, it’s technically not true. The druids have always known the truth. He is not just the most powerful magic user to exist, he is magic incarnate. When Uther began the purge, and his hatred spread through the five kingdoms, the amount of magic in the world decreased dramatically. The world needs balance and with that great amount of magic being wiped off the earth, it needed a place to go. It waited, sunk deep into the Earth waiting for the prophesized king. When the Once and Future King, a baby born of both man and magic and prophesized to bring about a golden age where man and magic live in harmony again and the five kingdoms united under his banner, was born, the magic that was waiting beneath the Earth took the form of a man. This man would walk beside the Once and Future King, protecting and guiding him until the time of Albion. Emrys and The Once and Future King are two sides of the same coin, two halves of a whole, two men destined to bring about that Golden Age and forever reunite the worlds of man and magic.” 

He refused to take his eyes from Arthur, and his unflinching gaze made Arthur shift nervously on his feet. “If Emrys remains in his current state, all that was prophesized will not come to pass, and the magical community will forever be in hiding. Many of us would rather die than see that happen. I will help him because I must, for the good of magic users everywhere. I will help him because I can, druids lead peaceful lives, and we do not waste human life. I will help him because he is my king and he has never been anything but respectful of my people and our customs. I will help because the future of Albion is in danger.” 

Arthur held Iseldir’s gaze, stunned speechless, and it wasn’t until Gwen pointedly cleared her throat that he forced himself to look away. “Yes, well, thank you.” He turned to the other knights. “What did Gaius say about his condition?”

Percival spoke up next. “He didn’t say much. Just said that if the collar didn’t come off soon, that Merlin could have permanent damage—both physical and mental. If Iseldir can help he needs to go now.” 

“Thank you, Percival. I know you’ve been spending a great deal of time with Gaius to assist with Merlin’s care, and I couldn’t be more thankful.” Percival just gave him a small smile and nod in return. “Iseldir, I know you’ve had a long journey, but I don’t think Merlin has any time to wait. I’d—”

“No need, Arthur Pendragon, I will go now. Rest can wait.” 

“Right. Off we go then.”

****

Arthur led Iseldir and Percival up to Gaius’ chambers while Gwen and Leon dealt with the council and Gwaine dealt with knights training. It had taken a lot of convincing to get the three of them to agree to tend to other duties, but Arthur had argued that things needed to progress as normal as possible to prevent the council from asking too many questions before Arthur was ready to answer them. Iseldir was already in a precarious situation and having both the king and queen as well as most of the head knights absent from their duties would be a sure way to bring the nobles down on their heads. So it was with great reluctance that Leon and Gwen agreed to tend to the council meeting and Gwaine, who had a seemingly endless bout of anger-based energy since Merlin’s capture and subsequent status upon return, was charged with knights training. Percival--who had spent copious amounts of time taking care of Merlin alongside Gaius--Arthur and Iseldir were to tend to Merlin’s collar. It had been a battle, and it was only with Iseldir’s insistence that it was bound to be dangerous to remove Merlin’s binding did they back down. 

Arthur pushed open the door to Gaius’ chambers and stepped briskly over to Merlin’s side. Iseldir followed a few steps behind, and Percival stepped in right after, shutting and latching the door behind him. Gaius turned from his workbench as soon as the three of them were all inside. “Gaius, how is he?”

“There has been no change since you brought him to me, Sire. That collar needs to be removed immediately if he is to recover properly and without permanent damage.” Arthur only nodded and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iseldir move from the shadows and place himself on the opposite side of the palette from Arthur.

“I believe that is what I am here for.” Iseldir’s eyes slipped from Merlin’s body to Gaius’ face. “I am Iseldir, leader and protector of the druids.”

Arthur watched as Gaius’ eyebrow raised on his face, observing Iseldir. “Yes,” he said a moment later. “Merlin has mentioned you before. He is grateful for all the help you have given him over the years.” Arthur looked between the two, confusion written on his face. Gaius glanced at him for a moment, meeting his eyes before quickly looking back at Iseldir. Arthur felt a flash of anger at being left out once again, and he made a mental note to revisit this topic with Gaius once Merlin was on the mend and Iseldir was safely out of the city. “We greatly appreciate you placing yourself in harm’s way to help him again now.”

“It is always my pleasure to assist Emrys, and if I’m not mistaken, his talents will be needed again shortly. It is best we make sure he is fit to fulfill his destiny.” Iseldir flashed another glance to Arthur before returning his attention to Merlin. Arthur, confused once again, turned his head slightly to meet Percival’s gaze. Percival only shrugged in response, clearly as confused by the conversation as Arthur was. 

Arthur heaved a sigh before returning his attention back to the druid leader. “Can you help him?”

Iseldir gently placed his hands around the metal collar secured around Merlin’s neck. He chanted quietly under his breath for a couple seconds before removing his hands. “The magic in this collar is strong. Morgana was as thorough as her teaching allowed, but Lott was unable to maximize its potential. The time it’s spent unused has weakened the dark magic greatly.”  
“What do you mean potential?” Arthur hadn’t realized he had spoken until Iseldir met his eyes once again. His piercing, calculating gaze made Arthur squirm slightly. 

“In addition to binding Emrys’ magic, this collar was meant to allow the caster to control it as well. A witch like Morgana could have used this collar to steal his magic and use it as a supporting agent for her own. If the remaining magic I felt in the collar is to be believed, whoever held him captive tried to pull on this power but failed.”

“So can you remove it?” Arthur asked. 

“If the collar was at full power, only the creator of the collar could remove it, but since it is not, I should be able to remove it.” Arthur nodded. “I must warn you all. Once I remove the collar, Emrys will have very little control of his magic. With this much power being contained for such a long period of time there is no telling what damage may be done to his surroundings.”   
“We’re prepared.” Nods from Gaius and Percival confirmed Arthur’s statement, so he looked Iseldir in the eye. “Do it.” Iseldir nodded in response.

****

Arthur watch as Iseldir bustled around the patient’s palette continuously setting his hands on different parts of Merlin’s body. From his seat next to the table, Arthur could see the druid muttering under his breath and shaking his head. Once he finished his ritual, he looked up to meet the king’s eyes once again. “He maintains his strength. His chance of full recovery seems good. Now please step back.” Out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw Gaius remove himself from Merlin’s side and place himself at the edges of the room. Iseldir was looking at him expectantly, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to move. He needed to be at Merlin’s side. “I understand, golden king, how much Emrys means to you, but his magic will be volatile once it’s released you need to move away for your own safety. You can sit beside him again soon.” Arthur hesitated a moment more before grudgingly rising from his stool and moving to the edge of the room to stand by Gaius. Iseldir gave Arthur a small nod in acknowledgement before gently placing his hands around the iron collar on Merlin’s neck.

Arthur watched as Iseldir took a deep breath to steady himself before launching into a spell. He spoke so fast Arthur could hardly keep up, not that he understood the words to begin with. Iseldir’s spell went on for seconds—or minutes, Arthur couldn’t tell and didn’t care enough to keep track. Arthur watched as Iseldir finished the spell with a somewhat guttural sound before gently removing the now smoking collar from around Merlin’s neck. As soon as that horrendous collar was removed, everyone in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Iseldir silently placed the collar on the table and drifted to stand with the rest of them, eyes warily watching Merlin. 

For a moment, nothing happened, and Arthur began to take a step forward, to go back to Merlin’s side, confident that whatever magical eruption Iseldir had predicted wouldn’t occur.

As soon as that thought crossed Arthur’s mind, Merlin’s entire body started to glow—a gold color so bright it was nearly white. It spread from his chest, enveloping the whole room in its warmth and light, and the four of them were forced to shield their eyes or risk being blinded. The light filled the whole room and surrounded the four men, tendrils of light wrapping around their bodies and warmth spreading over them. The light began to swirl, forming a whirlwind of light and wind, kicking up papers throwing them around the room. Without warning, everything stopped. The light stopped its movement and the wind slowed and everything it had picked up froze in midair. Arthur risked a glanced at the Merlin and nearly jumped out of his skin. Merlin’s eyes were open staring at the ceiling, although it seemed he didn’t register a single thing that was happening, and Arthur’s heart pounded frantically at seeing Merlin awake if only partially—he’d be okay. 

Arthur was forced to close his eyes again when the whirlwind picked back up, faster and stronger now, and then all of the sudden, the blinding light dimmed. Arthur was able to open his eyes quick enough to see the light collapse quickly back into Merlin before exploding in one final shockwave. The four men watching were forced to cover the heads and shield their eyes as glass shattered—windows, vials, Gaius’ reading glass, nothing was safe. The books that had been scattered about were flown across the room at a velocity fast enough to bruise ribs. Gaius’ workbench and the door to Merlin’s small room cracked nearly in half. The whole castle shook with the explosion, Merlin the epicenter of it all. 

All was still.

“You can go to him now, Pendragon. He should be safe.” Iseldir’s voice was quiet in his ear, and he hadn’t even finished the sentence before Arthur was scrambling across the room to Merlin’s side. Arthur hesitated at his side before finally grabbing Merlin’s hand, noting that it already felt cooler to the touch. “He should recover physically, but there is no telling what damage was done mentally while his magic was contained. For Emrys to be separated from his magic for so long…” Iseldir trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words. “Magic is as much a part of him as his blood. He was never meant to go long periods without using it. I fear the damage it did to his mental state.” Arthur didn’t look away from Merlin or let go of his hand as he nodded solemnly.

“Thank you for your help. Percival will see you safely to your chambers. You may rest here tonight, although you will need to be confined to chambers for your safety. My knights and the Queen will see to your needs.” 

“Of course.” Arthur heard Percival move from his spot near the wall and make his way toward the door and the soft shuffling that indicated Iseldir was following, when there was a pause. “It will not be easy for him. If his mind is as far gone as I suspect it will be, he will need you, for you, and only you, will be able to bring him back. You, Arthur Pendragon, are his other half. If you cannot do it…no one can.” Arthur looked at him suddenly, confused by the severity and seriousness of his voice. The two stared at each other for what felt like years, before Arthur gave a small nod of acknowledgement. With that, Iseldir bowed low before turning and following Percival out the door. 

****

Arthur sat on the stool situated next to the patient’s bed. Merlin lay unmoving, so still that were it not for the slow rising and falling of his chest Arthur would think he was dead. Merlin’s hand was already warmer than it had been a few short minutes ago, and Arthur silently thanked whatever gods or goddesses were listening that Merlin was still alive. He felt his eyes water, the stress of the last couple weeks crashing over him so suddenly that it nearly took his breath away. 

A shuffling noise behind him reminded Arthur that he wasn’t alone. He quickly swiped at his eyes with the hand that wasn’t gripping Merlin’s, and he felt Gaius’ hand rest on his shoulder. “He’ll be alright now, Sire.”

“He still looks so fragile, Gaius. How do we know that he will get better.”

“I can’t say for sure, sire, but Merlin has always been strong. If anyone can pull through torture like this…” Gaius chokes slightly, Arthur’s only indication that the physician isn’t nearly as composed as he seems to be. “If anyone can survive this, it’ll be Merlin. With his magic free, it should help the healing process.”

Arthur nods slowly, watching as Gaius rests a gentle hand on Merlin’s forehead and brushes some of the hair back from his forehead before turning back to the rest of room. The soft sound of papers shuffling and a broom on the stones is the only indication that Gaius is still in the room. Arthur takes a deep breath, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders before returning to his vigil. It was a few candle marks later, when the sun was just beginning to set, that the door to the physician’s chambers was opened again. The soft clicking of heels suggested Guinevere, but Arthur was too afraid to look away from Merlin to check. “Hello, Gaius. Sorry it’s taken me so long to visit. Council took longer than expected. How is our Merlin?”

“Iseldir removed the collar, so his magic is able to return to healing. But with the length of time that the collar was on, there’s no telling how long it will take for him to recover or the damage that was done to both his mind and his magic.” There was a pause that Arthur assumed was Guinevere nodding before another stool was being set at Merlin’s head and Gwen moved into his field of vision, taking a seat and immediately tending to Merlin’s still dangerously high fever. A few moments of silence passed again before Arthur saw Gwen look back up at Gaius. “Any word from his mother?” 

Oh god. Hunith. Arthur nearly hits his head against the wood palette at his idiocy. He’d never thought to send word to Merlin’s mother or send someone to collect her. Merlin would need his mother for this. He was so stupid. How could he forget Merlin's mother? Just another thing in the past five weeks Arthur was incapable of doing. It was only when Gaius replied that Arthur was driven from his melancholy. “She responded to the letter you sent. It arrived two days ago. She thanks you for sending an escort, said she should be here soon. If I’m correct she should be arriving shortly.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw her attention focus on him. “Arthur, will you be staying here tonight, or should I have George prepare your chambers for tonight?”

“I’ll be staying here tonight, Gwen. Thank you.” She nodded in response as she gave him a small smile before returning her attention to Merlin, carefully laying a cool cloth across his forehead. It was barely a moment before a knock sounded on the chamber door. Gaius moved slowly across the room to open the door. 

“Sir Leon, how can I help you?”

“I was actually looking for the Queen.” At this both Arthur and Gwen turned toward the door, though both of them refused to lose contact with Merlin. 

“Leon, what is it?” Gwen rose to her feet, though her hand remained gently on one of Merlin’s shoulders. 

“Sorry to disturb you, but Merlin’s mother was just spotted entering the lower town with Sirs Bedivere and Kay. They’ll be in the courtyard shortly. You would like her escorted here or given a room first.” 

Gwen glanced quickly at Merlin again. “Don’t worry about it, Leon. I’ll meet them in the courtyard and bring her directly here myself.” 

Leon gave small nod. “As you wish.” 

“I’ll be back shortly, Gaius, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, my lady.” With another quick glance at Merlin, Gwen swept from the room with all the grace of a Queen, Leon following closely behind.

****

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before Gaius’ door is being thrown open once again, and Hunith storms in the room in a flurry of skirt. “My boy!” She doesn’t even hesitate before taking the stool that rests at Merlin’s shoulder and immediately begins tending to Merlin’s fever. She glances up quickly, meeting eyes with a weary Gaius who gives her a sad smile before returning to the potions he was making. Gwen and Leon shuffle slightly where they stand just inside the chamber doorway. 

“I’m so glad you arrived safely. Merlin would never forgive us if we let something happen to you on your journey.” Gwen spoke softly from her place by the door. “I understand it was a long journey, Leon and I can escort you to your chambers should you require rest.”

“The offer is a kind one, your majesty, but I’d much prefer to stay with my son for the night. And besides, I’m sure Gaius could use his rest. My son clearly hasn’t changed much—he always had a habit of demanding everyone’s full attention.” Arthur watched as she gave a humorless chuckle. 

“I understand completely, Hunith. I’ll have a servant bring your things to your chambers, and the I’ll inform the guards at the door to fetch you anything you should require throughout the night.” 

“I appreciate the hospitality, your highness.” Not once during this conversation did Hunith actually look up from Merlin’s prone figure. Arthur would be appalled at the lack of propriety if he didn’t completely understand Hunith’s worry, and Arthur knew that Gwen had never cared for what was proper. 

“Please, Hunith, call me Gwen. I may be queen, but I was Gwen to you long before I was ever crowned.” Arthur watched from his stool as Hunith finally looked up at Gwen, fondness in her eyes. 

“Of course, Gwen. Thank you. And you as well, Sir Leon.” Both Leon and Gwen gave a small nod before turning and exiting the room, shutting the door quietly behind them. There was the soft sound of muttering outside the door, most likely Guinevere giving instructions to the guards outside. It didn’t take long for the footsteps that indicated the Queen and First Knight had left the hallway, leaving only the sound of the crackling fire and the clinking of Gaius’ vials as corked them and set them on the table. 

There was nothing but silence.

The silence was broken a few moments later when Gaius gave a loud yawn. Hunith looked up and gave him a fond look. “Why don’t you get some rest, Gaius. Knowing you, you’ve spent the last week looking after my son with very little rest. I greatly appreciate the care you’ve shown him, but you’re exhausted, my friend. I’ll look after him tonight.” 

“Thank you, Hunith. I expect he’ll sleep through the night. I changed his dressings just before you arrived, so there shouldn’t be much to worry about tonight besides his fever. Do not hesitate to wake me should there be any drastic changes in his condition.”

Hunith gave him a slightly amused look. “You seem to forget that it was you who trained me, Gaius. There isn’t much I can’t handle, but I will wake you should he wake.”

“You’re quite right, Hunith. You should be just fine.” He turned to Merlin’s small room and slowly made his way up the stairs. Just before he shut the door, Arthur watched him turn back to the main chamber. “Goodnight, Hunith. Sire.” With that, Gaius shut the door and left Hunith and Arthur alone. 

****

Arthur and Hunith sat in relative silence for hours. The only sounds in the room was the crackling of the fire, Gaius’ small snores coming from Merlin’s bedroom, and the tinkling of water as Hunith was tending to Merlin’s fever. Arthur sat on the stool next to Merlin’s side resting his fingertip lightly against Merlin’s arm. Though Gaius had assured him that lightly holding Merlin’s hand wouldn’t affect the sprained fingers of his right hand, but Arthur was weary of causing Merlin any more pain than he already had. 

Immediately, all the thoughts Arthur had been trying not to think flooded his mind. This was all his fault. If he had just listened to Merlin’s warning and prepared for a trap, or if he had managed to rescue him sooner, Merlin would not be in the condition he is now. Arthur was in charge of Merlin’s protection. As his king, it was Arthur’s duty to keep him from harm, and yet Arthur had led Merlin directly into danger. If it weren’t for Arthur, Merlin never would’ve been captured and tortured. What kind of a king couldn’t even protect his own manservant?

A soft hand on his shoulder brought him out of depression. Shocked at the contact, Arthur whipped his head around to meet Hunith’s eyes. She was looking at him softly and with concern, but with such a complete understanding it shocked him. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for what has happened, Sire.” It was uncanny, her ability to read him so well, and the way she was looking at him reminded him so much of Merlin that his heart ached and he couldn’t help the tears that sprang to his eyes. “What’s happened to him was not your fault.” Her thumb was tracing soothing circles where it rested on his shoulder, and it was so comforting that he couldn’t help but to hang his head and take a shaky breath. “I do not know you well, Sire, but Merlin has written of you often. He has expressed how much he admires you and your love for your people. You have a good heart, Sire, and if what Merlin writes is true, I know you feel responsible for what happened, but it is not your fault.” 

He wanted to argue because it really was his fault. Merlin was his servant, his responsibility, and more importantly Merlin was his love. He should never have let this happen. He opened his mouth to say all this, but what came out was “Arthur. Please, Hunith, call me Arthur.” He looked up again to see her giving him a sad smile. “And…it is my fault. He tried to warn me. He told me it was most likely a trap…that he had a bad feeling, and even after everything I’ve learned about him and what he’s done, I ignored him. Despite everything he still came with me.” He paused to take a breath, trying to maintain any semblance of composure before continuing. “If he hadn’t been protecting me he never would have been distracted enough to have been caught by surprise. If he hadn’t had to hide who he was in the first place, he would not have had to stay on the sidelines so far away. I didn’t even notice he was gone at first. What type of King doesn’t even notice his servant is missing. What kind of man doesn’t recognize that his best friend is gone.” Arthur hadn’t even realized he’d looked down again until he realized he was staring at the spot where his hand rested against Merlin’s skin. 

There were a few moments of silence before Hunith's hand moved from Arthur’s shoulder to under his chin, gently lifting his head to meet her eyes again. “I see how much this affects you. I understand you think Merlin is your responsibility, and I appreciate how far you are willing to go for my son’s protection, but the truth is, Arthur, Merlin can take care of himself. And I know my son. He would throw himself in front of a sword for you without any hesitation. He would do anything to protect you, Arthur.” She gives him another small smile. “He cares deeply for you, and he would willingly go through all of this again if it would keep you safe. I know it can’t be easy to see him in such a state, but Merlin has always been strong. He will pull through. You may not believe me, but just know that no one blames you but yourself. I certainly don’t, and I guarantee that Merlin doesn’t either. You did the best you could with the information you had. You must forgive yourself.” 

“It pains me to see him like this.” The confession slipped from his lips against his will, but it was incontrovertible, nonetheless. 

Hunith looked at him for a moment, her eyes searching for something in Arthur’s voice and manner. It took only seconds, but under her scrutinizing gaze it felt like hours. “You love him.” It was stated as a fact, and she said it with such conviction that Arthur couldn’t help but blush. 

“How did you know?” He murmured, embarrassed to be confirming it so easily. 

“I’ve known it since Ealdor, truthfully, although I could tell you hadn’t realized your feelings yet. It was the way you looked at him when he wasn’t looking that clued me in.”

“How do you mean?”

“You looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. It’s the same way your father used to look at your mother. It’s the same way my son looks at you.” She moved her hand from his cheek, placing gently against his cheek. “No matter how you teased him, he was always more than just a servant to you.” Arthur could only nod in agreement. They sat in companionable silence for a few more moments before Hunith dropped her hand and returned her attentions to Merlin’s fever. 

“I’m sorry, Hunith.” He said it quietly with his head down again, not quite ready to admit his shortcomings but knowing if he didn’t say it now he never would.

“I’ve told you already, Arthur,” she said it with a hint of exasperation, and the corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked up against his will. She sounded a bit like Merlin. “This is not your fault.”

“So you have said,” he replied, informing her that he still didn’t believe her but was willing to indulge her nonetheless, “but it was not to Merlin in which I am referring.”

“Then what are you apologizing for?”

“I never even thought to contact you. It shames me that I never even thought of Merlin’s own mother. I’m sorry that it was Guinevere who sent for you.”

“There’s no need for apologies. I understand you’ve been quite…preoccupied.” Her tone confused him, so he lifted his head to see if her expression could clear things up. She looked slightly amused, but there was a hint of disappointment there too. “From what I’ve heard, you have been shirking your duties to sit by Merlin’s side day and night.” Her raised eyebrow told Arthur exactly what she thought about that. It could rival Gaius’ with how much it made shame flare in him. “I understand why, and I appreciate you seeing to my son’s recovery, but you have a kingdom to run. You can’t just cast that aside for this.” He flushed with shame again and opened his mouth to respond, but Hunith continued before he could speak. “And I can assure you that Merlin would not approve of you lazing about at his bedside.” 

The sound of Merlin’s bedroom door opening interrupted their conversation. Gaius stumbled down the stairs with a small yawn. It was only with this interruption that Arthur realized it was dawn. “Good morning, Sire. Hunith.” 

“Good morning, Gaius.” Hunith replied. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have in days.”

“That’s good to hear, Gaius.” 

“Should I prepare you breakfast?”

Hunith stood slowly before responding. “No that’s alright, Gaius. I should retire to my chambers.” Arthur watched as Gaius gave her a small nod. 

“Shall I prepare you a serving then, Sire.”

Arthur glanced at Hunith, who looked back with a raised eyebrow and a stern look. “No that’s quite alright. I should return to my chambers anyway. I’ll have George bring me something before I head to the Round Table.” 

Gaius turned around with a slightly surprised look, but there was pride in his eyes too. “Very good, Sire. I will be sure to inform you if there is any change to Merlin’s condition.”

“Thank you, Gaius.” Arthur received a nod in return before Gaius turned back to his breakfast. Satisfied, Arthur turned back to Hunith. “If you would allow me the honor, I would like to escort you back to you chambers.” 

Hunith blushed slightly before dipping into a shallow curtsy. “The honor is all mine, my lord.” She gently took his proffered arm, and they walked arm in arm out of Gaius’ chambers


	9. Disappointment and Dream Walking

For the next couple of days, Arthur returned to his duties. He returned to the Round Table, went back to training, and did everything he’d been avoiding the past week while he’d been at Merlin’s bedside. He still stopped by Gaius’ chambers in the evening to sit with Merlin and chat with Hunith, who’d taken to watching Merlin during the night hours to lessen the burden on Gaius. He often fell asleep bent over the patient’s bed with his hand in Merlin’s, and though Hunith never said anything about it, he often woke to her gentle touch to his shoulder, a small plate of breakfast, and her knowing smile. They would eat together as the sun rose, and he would escort her back to her chambers before hurrying to his own to clean up before attending to his own duties. 

Despite reassurances from both Gaius and Iseldir, who remained in the castle despite Arthur’s insistence that it was too dangerous, Arthur was slightly worried about Merlin. It had been several days since the wretched collar had been removed and yet, Merlin had not yet returned to consciousness. Gaius had assured him that Merlin, despite not waking, no longer looked like a corpse, but instead looked more like he was sleeping which was a good sign. By his estimation, Merlin was bound to wake any time in the next couple of days, and that news had Arthur going about his duties with an anxious edge that frightened nearly everyone he came across. 

When Merlin did wake, Arthur was in the middle of council when Percival’s squire was let into the council room. Arthur held up his hand to whatever Lord was speaking, he’d only paying enough attention to know it wasn’t really important. When the Lord finally quieted, Arthur motioned for the squire to speak. “My Lord,” he began, “Gaius has sent me to give you the news that your manservant has awoken.”

“How long has he been awake?”

“Only a few minutes, My Lord. Gaius sent me as soon as he noticed.” 

Arthur nodded slowly. “Has anyone alerted his mother?”

“Yes, sire, I believe Sir Percival was sent to collect her.” 

“That’s good. Please return to the physician and tell him I’ll be along in a moment.” The squire nodded eagerly, gave a hasty bow, and fled from the council chamber’s as quickly as he entered. Arthur returned his attention to the council. “Gentleman, this meeting is dismissed.” Arthur made to rise, but was interrupted by Lord Amron, who was still standing from where Arthur had interrupted his report. 

“Excuse me, we still have important things to discuss.” Lord Amron was taking no measures to hide the disdain that was all over his face or the derision in his tone. Arthur had no time for this. He wanted to see Merlin—he needed to see Merlin—and Arthur wasn’t going to let some arrogant Lord get in his way. 

“Remind me again, Lord Amron, what it was you were speaking about.” Lord Amron made to speak, but Arthur continued before he could get a word in. “I believe you were reporting on the condition of the kingdom’s roads, were you not?” Lord Amron gave a short, contemptuous nod. “Right, and if I’m not mistaken, you have been giving the exact same report for the past week. You have nothing important to contribute to this discussion and all matters that absolutely needed my attention have already been attended to at the beginning of this meeting. Nothing that needs to be said is something that can’t wait.” Arthur rose from his seat with a glare at Lord Amron and began to make his way to the doors, thinking that was the end of it. 

But before he made out of the doors, Lord Amron spoke again. “Perhaps you should consider your priorities, Arthur. No servant should come before the business of the kingdom, especially one so disrespectful as that boy. He has been nothing but a bad influence on you. He’s made you weak, and I should’ve killed him years ago when I saw that he was leading from your father’s path.”

Arthur turned back toward the table, meeting Lord Amron with a glare that made the rest of the nobles turn away and stare at the table. “You would dare threaten my manservant in front of me?”

“That boy has corrupted you, made you weak. He is nothing but worthless, and you spend too much time with that filth. I should’ve punished him years ago for his insolence. I only regret that I didn’t. Maybe then this kingdom wouldn’t be stuck with a weak and useless king.” There was dead silence throughout the room. Arthur didn’t say anything, letting the nobles sit in the silence. While normally Arthur would shove down his anger and address the issue diplomatically, but not today. Today, he was in no mood to deal. Instead of shoving it down he let it let it roll off him and fill the room. 

“Does anyone else feel this way?” He let his voice indicate that everybody better stay silent. “That’s what I thought. Lord Amron. You’ve been a loyal advisor to my father, but I can see that loyalty does not extend to me. I have warned you about your behavior and the consequences should it continue.” Lord Amron looks confused, but Arthur is so done with him. “Geoffrey?”

“Yes, sire?”

“Send a missive to Amron’s estate alerting them that their father has been disinherited and banished on pain of death from my kingdom and that his lands are awarded to his first born should they travel to citadel and swear their fealty.” 

“Yes, sire.”

“Leon, escort Amron to his chambers to gather his things then select a few knights to escort Amron to the nearest border.”

“Yes, sire.” 

When all that business was done, Arthur looked back to the irate ex-noble. “You were warned, Amron, what would happen should you continue to push me. You have no one to blame but yourself. You have until sunset to get out of my kingdom.”

“You are banishing me? You’re favoring a stupid worthless servant over a nobleman? If anyone deserves your favor it’s me. ‘That boy’ is nothing compared to me.”

“That boy is anything but, and he is twice the man you’ll ever be. You’ve heard my ruling, Amron. Should you choose to ignore it I will not hesitate to strike you down where you stand.” With that, Arthur turned a left the nobles in stunned silence. 

*****

He made his way as quickly as he could to Gaius’ chambers—desperate to see Merlin awake and alive. He moved as quickly through the castle as was dignified—taking stairs two at a time and using servant passages if he thought they’d get him Merlin quicker. Many of the servants and staff threw him odd looks as he strode through the hallways, his Pendragon cloak billowing behind him as he walked. It only took him minutes to reach the chamber door, but he must have been making more noise than he thought because the door opened before Arthur could so much as knock, and Gaius slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

“Gaius! I have heard Merlin is awake. Is that true?”

“It is true, sire. Merlin woke up a short while ago.”

“That’s brilliant! Can I see him?”

“You can, sire.” Arthur felt a smile stretch across his face, and he moved to step around Gaius. He didn’t even make it a step before he was stopped by Gaius’ hand on his chest. “I should warn you, sire. He’s not himself. You can’t go in there expecting to walk in, call him an idiot, and everything will be okay.”

“I know he’s not going to be completely himself, Gaius. I don’t care that he’s not completely himself, I just want to see him.” Gaius clearly wanted to respond, Arthur watched his mouth open again and his brows furrow, but Arthur gently shoved him aside and made his way through the door. 

Despite Gaius’ warnings, nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight that greeted him. 

Hunith was sitting on the stool next to Merlin’s shoulder, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Percival was sitting on the stool near his head staring down at Merlin, his mouth in a frown and his brows furrowed in sadness. And Merlin—Merlin’s head was turned to the side and his eyes were locked on the fireplace. Now, after what he went through, that wouldn’t normally seem odd, but it was the look in Merlin’s eyes, or lack thereof, that frightened Arthur more than anything. Merlin’s eyes were vacant, and if it weren’t for the subtle, somewhat stuttering, rise and fall of Merlin’s chest, he would look more like a corpse than a living, breathing man. 

Arthur didn’t even remember moving to Merlin’s side, but next thing he knew he was standing next to Hunith, his hand resting gently on Merlin’s hand, and Merlin’s lack of reaction to the touch made Arthur’s heart ache. Hunith rested a comforting on top of his. He glanced quickly to her, seeing her sad smile before Gaius’ soft footfalls drew his attention. “What’s wrong with him, Gaius? Has he said anything—done anything—at all?”

“I’m not entirely sure what’s going on with him. I have some theories, but I can’t be certain. I’ve sent Percival’s squire to retrieve Iseldir. I’ll need his help to confirm my suspicions.”

“So you’ve gotten nothing from him?”

“No, he hasn’t made any indication he’s even aware of what’s going on. We didn’t even realize he was awake for a few minutes. He made no noise or movement to indicate consciousness.”

“What do you suspect is wrong with him?”

Gaius pursed his lips, seeming to debate whether or not to respond. He glanced quickly at Percival. “Sir Percival, perhaps we should try the broth again now that he’s awake. If you wouldn’t mind assisting me that would be greatly appreciated.” Arthur watched as Percival gave a small nod, then lifted Merlin’s chest gently. He gently eased onto the edge of the table, sitting partially sideways and cradling Merlin to his chest—keeping him in a slightly sternal position with his head tilted back against Percival’s collarbone. Hunith rose from her spot with a bowl of broth that she seemed to pull from nowhere. She gently raised a spoonful to Merlin’s partially open lips and with a steady hand, she poured it into his mouth—massaging his throat gently to get him to swallow. As soon as he swallowed, the four people in the room let out a collective sigh. Merlin hadn’t been able to keep anything but water down since his return to the citadel. To see him eating broth nearly brought tears to Arthur’s eyes. 

“Gaius, please. I’ve never seen anyone like this. What do you think is going on?” 

“I suspect it has to do with his magic.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, sire, the main goal of the magic is to keep it’s vessel alive. With the collar on, it was nearly impossible to heal the wounds that were threatening Merlin’s life. It’s my suspicion that in order to spare him as much pain as possible, his magic cornered off his conscious mind.”

“Cornered…?” What does that mean?”

“His magic couldn’t heal the wounds, so instead it placed his consciousness in an area of the brain where Merlin couldn’t register what was happening to him. To prevent the pain and shock from killing him, the magic worked internally to keep him alive. I’ve read up on such practices. The Catha, in particular, use a similar method in such situations, but Merlin’s case is extremely severe. If this is what his magic did for him, there’s no telling what it will take to bring him out of such a state.” 

“But this is just a theory, Gaius. Surely, this can’t be that serious.”

“I do not know, Sire. Iseldir will be able to get a better look at what’s going on inside Merlin’s head.” Arthur nodded solemnly at Gaius’ words, absently watching Hunith and Percival feed Merlin. It was that way that Iseldir found them.

“Let me have a look at him. Quickly!” He said making his way to the table. Percival gently set him down again, and he and Hunith removed himself from the table’s vicinity. Arthur knew he should move, but despite his best efforts, his feet stayed rooted to the floor. Iseldir gave him a knowing look. “It’s alright, Sire. I should have enough room to work.” With Arthur’s nod of thanks, Iseldir gently clasped Merlin’s temples. “Do try your best not to interrupt. This is a very dangerous spell, interrupting could cause more damage to Merlin’s brain.” With that he closed his eyes and began to chant. 

The rest waited with bated breath. 

The whole process took about five minutes, and when Iseldir opened his eyes and withdrew his hands, his face was grim. “It is as you feared Gaius. Emrys is trapped deep within his subconscious.” The whole group seemed to slump at that, and Arthur let out an involuntary shaky breath. “If it’s any consolation, the memory he’s trapped in seems very pleasant. He’s in an open glade near a river, surrounded by columbine flowers. He seems to be very at peace.”

Arthur looked around the room, noticing the somewhat relieved looks on everyone’s faces, but to him, the knowledge ached. He remembered that afternoon. It was last summer. He and Merlin had gone for a hunt, at least that’s what Arthur had said they were doing, but the weather was so nice they had stopped in the glade and just talked. It was a rare moment when Arthur had truly felt at peace. It seems Merlin had felt the same. They had just lounged in the wildflowers, bathing in the sun, and chatted about everything and anything and nothing. It was one of Arthur’s favorite memories, but he ached to think of it now. He wanted to do that again. He couldn’t help imagining him and Merlin returning to that glade, but this time as more. He wanted Merlin back. 

“Iseldir?”

“Yes, my lord?” 

“Is there any way to fix this? To drag him back to full awareness?” Arthur didn’t know what he would do if Iseldir said it couldn’t be fixed.

“There is no definite strategy to fix this. It could happen, but I’ve never seen a case as severe as what is currently going on inside Emrys’ head, but if anyone can draw him out, it will be you, Arthur.”

“Me? Why me?”

“You are his other half. You two complete each other, and your connection to each other is so strong that you could reach him.”

“How could I do that?’

“I could transport your consciousness into where his is trapped. You would have to get through to him. I do have to warn you, sire, if you agree to do this, it would be dangerous for both of you.” 

“I don’t care. Tell me.”

“Emrys, he is very strong, and his magic is doing everything it can to keep him safely sequestered in his little corner. I could only manage to break you in for a few minutes at most. It’s most likely his magic will try to kill you to protect Emrys.”

“I will do it.”

“Now, Arthur, wait a minute…” Gaius’ voice was stern.

“No, Gauis. I must do this. He’s saved me so many times, it’s my turn to repay the favor.” Gaius remained gaping for a moment, before huffing a sigh of resignation and nodding. 

“Iseldir? Can we start now?” 

“Yes, Sire. I have just enough strength left for one try tonight.”

“Good. How does this work?”

“Well, you’ll need to be asleep, it’ll be easier for me to manipulate your subconsciousness’ together. Is there another cot available? You’ll need to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Yes.” Gaius said. “Merlin’s bed is in the back room. It should be relatively light.” He motioned to the back room. “Percival could you fetch it and bring it in here? We can set it next to the patient bed.” 

“Of course, Gaius.”

It took the five of them a few minutes to set everything up, but soon Arthur was laid down next to Merlin, fingers entwined. “Alright, Arthur,” Iseldir was speaking gently, “I’ll use a sleeping spell to put you to sleep. I’ll combine your consciousness with Emrys’ as long as I can. If it doesn’t work tonight, we can continue trying. It may take a long time.” Arthur nodded solemnly. “Your Majesty, it may also not work at all. My magic is nowhere near as strong as Emrys’. You must be aware of the possibility that he may never return to how you knew him.” 

Arthur shut his eyes tightly for a moment, breathing deeply to shove down the tears and the pain. “Alright, I’m ready.” Next thing he knew, he was asleep.

*****

He came to in a forest, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it looked almost exactly like the forest outside of Camelot. It was different somehow, brighter and more alive. It seemed to be humming and surrounded by a golden light. Arthur stood looking around in confusion for several moments before everything seemed to click. He was seeing the forest through Merlin’s eyes. This is how Merlin saw the forest, and even Arthur could feel the distant thrum of magic pulsing up through his feet. If this is how nature looked and felt to Merlin, Arthur can understand how Merlin often seemed lost in his own thoughts while he was in the forest. He always used to tease Merlin about his absentmindedness, but he gets it now. 

It was then Arthur remembered what he was here for. He knew he was close by the sound of running water—all he had to do was head towards it. It didn’t take him long to find the glade he was looking for. Merlin was lounging in front of him, a few feet from the riverbank, with his head tilted back and eyes closed. Iseldir was at least right about one thing—Merlin did look to be at peace.   
“Merlin?” When there was no response Arthur moved from the tree line, edging closer and closer to Merlin and softly calling his name. “Merlin? Can you hear me?” Again, there was no response, so Arthur crossed in front of him and sat down cross-legged where Merlin’s feet were stretched in front of him. “C’mon, idiot, I know you can hear me.” Still Merlin held no acknowledgment of him.

There was a rustling in the bushes to Merlin’s left, and Arthur immediately tensed, prepared to defend Merlin from whatever possible threat was converging on the glade. To his surprise, it wasn’t a threat it was himself. It was unsettling to see himself—or Merlin’s dream version of him--emerging from the trees. It almost didn’t make sense for a moment, but Arthur remembered that he had been there that day so it would be logical that he was in Merlin’s memories. Although this wasn’t a mere memory, it’s was Merlin’s safe haven, and there was no mistaking that Arthur often got on Merlin’s nerve. So why Merlin’s magic would trap Merlin with Arthur was beyond Arthur’s comprehension. 

So it was with slight hesitation that Arthur watched dream Arthur plant himself next to Merlin. He didn’t know if he was ready to see himself through Merlin’s eyes. Dream Arthur mimicked Merlin’s position, leaning back and lounging back on his elbows, legs stretched out in front of him and head tilted back. Without even opening his eyes, Arthur watched Merlin speak. “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

Dream Arthur replied, “Not really seems all the animals were smart enough to avoid the area.”

“Really, Arthur, you were still trying to hunt?”

“That is what I told everyone what we were doing, I only thought we should have something to show for it.” 

“Arthur you haven’t even looked at crossbow since we left the citadel.” Merlin finally opened his eyes to look at dream Arthur, twinkle in his eye that Arthur immediately recognized as the one he got before saying something to tease Arthur. “You just wanted to shirk your duties today.”

Dream Arthur looked affronted momentarily before replying. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Whatever you say, sire.” He suddenly turned serious and sat up a little. “You don’t have to lie to me, Arthur, I know how much your duties take from you sometimes. It's okay to want to get away for a little while.” He immediately closed his eyes and returned to his original position, always understanding that Arthur was never good with the emotional sides of relationships. Dream Arthur looked a little dazed for a minute, seeming surprised at the fact that Merlin knew him so well. _Really,_ Arthur thought to himself as he watched his doppelganger frown slightly, _you shouldn’t be so surprised. He’s the only person who has ever truly known every part of you. You’d be lost without him._ Arthur watched the two of them sit in companionable silence for a few minutes before Dream Arthur abruptly stood up. Looking down at Merlin as the servant opened his eyes. 

“I’m going to go for a quick swim.”

“You go ahead, Arthur, I’ll join you in a minute or two.” Dream Arthur gave a short nod in response before promptly heading the few feet down to the riverbank. Arthur watched him go briefly before turning back to Merlin. Merlin, who was staring at dream him with such longing and affection that Arthur’s heart stuttered slightly in his chest before picking up beating at an even faster pace. Arthur had seen many looks on Merlin’s face, but he had never seen Merlin look at him like that. Hope blossomed in chest briefly because for all he’d come to terms with his feelings for Merlin, he’d hadn’t even thought to contemplate Merlin’s feelings. There had been times, sure, when Arthur might’ve thought Merlin could’ve felt something along those lines, but he’d never taken his inklings seriously. Now, he realized those inklings weren’t necessarily as unfounded as he originally thought. 

With Dream Arthur gone, Arthur decided to try to reach Merlin again. “Merlin, it’s Arthur can you hear me?” Merlin didn’t move, didn’t even take his eyes off the Arthur in the river. “I need you to hear me, Merlin.” Arthur went to rest a hand on Merlin’s leg, but there was a pull in his chest that stopped him short. He didn’t have much more time. “Merlin! Please!” There was another strong pull before Merlin was fading away.

***** 

Arthur woke with a gasp, sitting straight up on the cot, though he distantly noticed he had yet to release Merlin’s hand. There was a crashing sound behind him and murmuring voices that caused Arthur to turn his head. Iseldir was being supported by Percival, who had a firm grip under the druid’s arms. It seems his knees had begun to buckle. Hunith was standing nervously next to Percival’s shoulder, arms outstretched to assist should Iseldir collapse further. With a small assist from Percival, Iseldir was back on his feet in seconds, though he still looked shaky. “Are you alright?” Gaius was checking him over best he could as he asked the druid the question, but he seemed satisfied enough he wasn’t hovering too badly. 

“Yes, I’m quite alright.” Iseldir smoothed a hand down his robes briefly before continuing. “Please forgive me, I was not prepared.”

Arthur found his mouth moving of his own accord. “Prepared for what?”

“I really should have known better. I warned you, sire, that it was dangerous because there was a possibility that Emrys’ magic would try to kill you in defense, but I was horribly wrong.” He paused like he was waiting for a question, but the confused faces on everyone else in the room (excepting Merlin) must have been enough. “Emrys recognized you as his other half. Instead of trying to kill you, his magic tried to protect you too. It tried to keep you and lock you in that space as well. It took more strength than I thought to pull you back out.” Iseldir must have confused Arthur’s stunned face for fear as he hurried to reassure him. “Do not worry, your majesty, I will be better prepared for next time.”

Gaius escorted Iseldir to a stool, handed him a cup of water, the moved between Merlin’s bed and the fire to check over Merlin. Hunith seemed to snap out of her shock and began cleaning up the knocked over vials that had fallen off the table when Iseldir had bumped it. Percival seemed to sense he was no longer needed and made a quick and quiet exit with a mumbled word about needing to retire to his bed. Arthur, well Arthur, was staring at the wall questioning everything. It took him several minutes to finally get his mouth working again. “Why was his magic trying to protect me?”

Iseldir raised his head and met Arthur’s eyes steadily. “I seem to have misjudged him slightly, sire. I said his magic’s primary goal was to keep him alive, but I know see that was wrong.” He took a deep breath and set his cup on the table behind him before continuing. “Your connection with him is strong, Arthur, so strong that from the moment you met each other, Emrys knew he had to protect you no matter the cost. It would seem, that Emrys’ primary goal, above all else, is keeping you alive even if it should risk his own life. It was why he fought so hard to keep you with him. It hasn’t yet figured out that the danger Emrys was facing is gone. The magic was simply trying to spare you all the pain he went through.”

“If our bond is as strong as you say, why did it not work?”

“It is difficult to say. Emrys is…unique. Normal circumstances never seem to apply to him. You just have to find the right words to say to bring him back.”

“And what are those?”

“There is no set of instructions or magic words that can help. All we can do is keep trying.” 

_ Of course. Nothing is ever simple where Merlin is concerned. I shouldn't have expected anything different._ Arthur nodded, looked down at where his fingers were interlocked with Merlin’s, then looked up again. “Then keep trying we will.”


	10. Desperate Times and Desperate Confessions

And try they did. For three weeks they tried everything. Iseldir would be waiting for Arthur in Gaius’ chambers every morning just after breakfast, and they’d try again. When that failed, as it always did, Arthur would return after his daily duties and a quick dinner in his chambers, he’d return to Merlin to try again, and when that failed, as it always did, he’d return to his chambers dejected and without hope for a restless night of sleep before starting all over again the next morning . It was an endless cycle that was beginning to wear Arthur down even more than he already was. Honestly, everything seemed to be at rock bottom. At this point it didn’t seem like it could get any worse.

He was really tired of always being wrong

Three weeks after Merlin’s collar was removed, Arthur was sitting at the round table after that morning’s attempt with Iseldir, and the particularly grueling sessions seemed to be getting them nowhere. One of the lords was droning on and on about something that Arthur was too dejected to really pay attention to when the doors slamming open shook him from his melancholy. Sir Leon stormed into the room, still covered in dirt from his patrol with a slightly panicked look on his face, and for the normally unshakeable knight, a look like that was rare. It immediately set Arthur on edge. “Sir Leon, what news do you have for me.”

“It’s bad news, sire. An army was spotted marching towards the citadel.”

“Who’s army?”

Leon looked askance with a slight frown, and at that moment, Arthur knew exactly what Leon was going to say before the words had even left his mouth. “King Lott’s, Sire.” 

“How many?”

“We weren’t able to get a complete count, but there’s definitely over one thousand.”

“More than one thousand?” Arthur frowned to himself, mentally doing the math in his head. “That should be impossible. Morgause wiped out most of Escetir’s able-bodied male population when her immortal army was defeated years ago.”

“That’s correct, Sire. We spotted Alined’s banners as well.”

“Alined? Are you certain?”

“Yes. It seems he means to break the treaty he signed with your father. He marches with Lott toward the citadel.” Leon hesitated, seemingly debating whether or not to say something. 

“Say whatever it is you have to say, Leon, so that preparations can begin.”

“We spotted at least six sorcerers of considerable power amongst their ranks, sire.” Arthur could only sigh in response. 

“How long do we have until they get here?”

“They should reach the fields at the edge of town within the next five days.” Arthur nodded to himself. Why did things like this always seem to happen? 

“Sir Leon, prepare the citadel for a siege, and alert the knights that I intend to meet them at the forest’s edge. We’ll set the war camp up at the edge of the fields.” Leon gave a short bow and a mumbled ‘yes, sire’ before fleeing the chambers. “My lords, I do apologize, but council is dismissed until this threat is disposed.” Not everyone looked happy, but they shook their heads in acknowledgement and filed out of the council room. 

When everyone had gone, Arthur slumped in his seat and rested his head in his hand. He didn’t want to deal with this right now—he didn’t even think he had the strength. With Merlin in his condition and an army marching on the city Arthur didn’t think he had the energy to lead his people through this. Sure, Camelot had the greatest army in the land but there were significantly fewer of them now—a result of the countless wars they’d had to fight over the past couple of years. Now, Lott and Alined were marching on Camelot with an army that greatly outnumbered their own in men and power. Arthur needed strength to lead his men through this and he needed magic to aid their efforts. Arthur’s source for both was currently lying awake but absent minded in Gaius’ chambers with no sign of mental recovery. 

He sighed once more, knowing he needed to get up but unable to will himself to rise from his seat. A few minutes later, Arthur heard the clacking of heels in the hallway, signaling the return of his wife from the lower town. 

“Arthur?” 

“Guinevere,” He rose to meet her, and she greeted him with a small smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Did you get everything sorted with the midwives?” Gwen had spent a majority of the day in the lower town, settling a dispute between a few of the midwives in the town. Arthur had found she had a natural skill as a mediator and as a result began sending her to deal with many of the citadel’s disputes. She could be downright terrifying at times, and the disputes were often settled quickly and fairly when she was the arbiter.

“The dispute was ridiculous but it’s all settled.”

“That’s good. I’m glad for your help.”

“Arthur…I spoke to Leon. Lott and Alined are marching on Camelot?”

“Yes, and reports say they have over one thousand men and a handful of powerful sorcerers.” 

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s really bad, Gwen. I mean…” he raked his fingers through his hair “we knew that Lott was planning something, that taking Merlin hadn’t been his whole plan. We’ve been preparing for this, but I thought we’d have more time. I thought Merlin would be able to recover and that he would be here to support me. I don’t think I can do this without him.”

“Oh Arthur, you doubt your own strength. I know that Merlin has helped us more often than not, but you are strong without him. You can lead our city through this and be here to greet Merlin when he finally wakes. You will make sure he has a home to wake up to.” 

“You are a wonderful woman, Guinevere, and the best queen and king could ask for. Will you walk with me? I’ve yet to see Merlin, and I’d like to talk with Gaius and Iseldir.” Gwen smiled and took Arthur’s proffered arm, and they slowly made their way to Gaius’ chambers. 

*****

When he arrived at Gaius’ chambers, Hunith and Percival were gently spoon-feeding Merlin broth and the old physician and Iseldir were in the back corner having a hushed but animated conversation that involved many hand gestures and not-so-subtle glances at the warlock. Arthur made his way over to the patients bed to says his greeting to Hunith. Guinevere, who had released his arm made her way over to Percival to be available to assist should it be needed. Arthur laid a gentle hand on Hunith’s shoulder. “How is he?” Hunith glanced up at him before bringing the last spoonful to Merlin’s mouth, and when he swallowed, she put the bowl down and covered Arthur’s hand with her own. 

“He’s been eating more, which is good, but his condition remains the same.”

“His wounds?”

“They’ve begun to heal, but it seems his magic is still unable to heal him physically—too much energy keeping him where he is.”

“So he’s healing at a normal pace?”

“That’s correct. It is very painful and many of the wounds remain open and bleeding. Gaius and I have been unable to stem the bleeding. It will take him a very long time to heal, and without his magic’s assistance physically, it’s likely he will carry the scars of this experience for the rest of his life.”

“His magic can prevent scars?”

“Yes, although it usually only prevents scarring from the minor injuries and it can lessen the severity of the scars left by major injuries. It likely that even with magical assistance these wound would remain with him for the rest of his life.”

Arthur sighed heavily and turned his eyes to Merlin. “Hunith, I’m sorry.”

“I’ve told you before, Arthur, there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Please, let me. It’s my duty to protect him and I’ve failed many times, and the worst part is I never even noticed. He did all these things for me and my kingdom, and I didn’t even recognize it. To make matters worse, I always treated him like dirt, like he was less than me because I was king or prince and he was not. I never once thought he could be anything but a clumsy country boy. There was this one time where he was gone for two days or so, and when he came back I asked him where he had been. You know what he said? He said he was dying, and I didn’t even consider that was a possibility. I just got mad at him for shirking his duties. What kind of king says something like that? What kind of a king does that make me?” When he finished he looked away from Merlin to see every pair of eyes in the room on him. He shrunk into himself under all the scrutiny. 

Hunith squeezed his hand a little to regain his attention all while pulling him down into a crouch beside her chair. She turned in her chair to face him. Arthur braced himself under her intense gaze, expecting anger at his treatment of her son, but what came was a softening of her features and a gentle, reassuring hand against his cheek. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but to lean into the touch. He’d never had a mother in his life—no motherly affection or attention—to have it now, in such circumstances froze him to his spot and made tears spring to his eyes. “You want to know what kind of king that makes you?” She squeezed his hand once more before continuing. “It makes you a human one. Despite how much you might wish it so, you are not infallible, and you have made and will make plenty of mistakes. It’s okay and it’s part of life. You are young still and have many things still to learn. The important thing is you recognize the mistake and fix it. And if it’s any consolation, I forgive you, and Merlin will too. You would not even have to ask him for it. You are his king and his heart, he gives you his forgiveness and love without question. Do not be so hard on yourself.” 

It was the exact opposite of everything his father had ever told him, and part of Arthur’s brain immediately wanted to reject everything she had said. But another part of him, the part that had always yearned to be loved by a mother he never had and a father that he wished was different, was relieved to hear her say what she did. His father had always told him he had to be perfect, to show strength and to hide his weaknesses—that to show he was imperfect would lose him the faith of his people. It was a comfort to hear everything she had said, and the experience and his exhaustion caused unbidden tears to slide down his face. Hunith gently wiped them away with her thumb. 

He took a second to compose himself, and when he rose to his feet he looked around and noticed everyone had kindly averted their eyes to give him as much privacy as possible in such a situation. With one last glance at Hunith, who had a knowing and sympathetic smile on her face, he began to speak. “Percival, report to the armory. Leon will have assignments for you.” Immediately confusion overtook his features. Ever since Merlin’s return, only training had taken him away from Merlin’s care. Arthur had ordered that Percival be excused from patrols and other duties so that he could assist Gaius throughout the day. “I’m sorry, Percival. I know I ordered differently a few weeks ago, but there are extenuating circumstances that now require me to overrule that order.” He was trying to skirt the issue, knowing Leon would update Percival on his own, but from the looks on everyone else’s faces but Gwen’s, Arthur knew someone would ask.

In the end it was Gaius who asked. There was a fairly long pause while people tried to sort through what information they had to see what could possibly summon Percival from Merlin’s side. When no conclusions were drawn, Gaius took a step forward. “Sire, what requires Sir Percival’s attention. He has been the only one available to help for most of the day and his strength has greatly assisted in Merlin’s care. I would hate to lose him.”

“I’m sorry, Gaius, I know he’s been valuable to you, but Lott and Alined’s are marching on the citadel as we speak, and Leon will need his assistance to organize our men.”

“An army?”

“Yes, and one that greatly outnumbers our own and consists of multiple powerful sorcerers.” The room was utterly silent in the wake of his news, and it took a full minute before anyone moved.   
Percival was first, he gave Arthur a small bow before rushing from the room. Guinevere was next. She looked around the room at the drawn faces of the people who knew that without Merlin’s aid, Camelot would fall. She said something about assisting in the setting up of an infirmary since Gaius was preoccupied and hustled from the room with as much dignity as she could muster. That left Hunith, still sat in the chair and looking at Merlin with such despair that Arthur had to turn away, Gaius and Iseldir still in the chair. “Leon’s reports suggest we have five days until the army breaches the forest line. I’ve planned to meet them there and attempt to prevent the citadel and lower taking any more damage. We’ll be preparing for a siege in case of a retreat or…” He trailed off, unable to really grasp that Camelot’s best hope of winning was currently lying practically comatose on a patient bed. “Merlin is our only hope of defeating this army.” He took a deep breath before locking eyes with Iseldir. “I understand our attempts to break through to him have been fruitless, and that this spell takes a lot of your strength, but we need to try it as often as you can manage. We will need his help if we are to win, but my men and I are prepared to pay the price should these attempts provide the same results.”

“Of course, Young Pendragon. I understand the necessity, but I must warn you that should Merlin wake he may not even be able to assist. He may be too injured to be of much use.”

“I know. We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Is it possible to try again now?”  
Iseldir contemplated for a moment before nodding. “I should have recovered from this morning’s session. Although you may have less time than normal.” 

“That’s alright, we’ll work with what we have.” At that, Iseldir began preparing to perform the spell. Arthur brought Hunith to her feet. “It is dangerous for you here, and with all the siege preparations beginning I would like to make sure Merlin’s mother remains as safe as possible.” She gave him a warm smile and quietly took his proffered arm. He walked them to the door, opened it and addressed the guards at the doors. “Escort Hunith back to her chambers and see that she has all she will need for the rest of the afternoon. After that, report to Sir Leon, he may have assignments for you. Your services won’t be needed here.” They bowed politely and muttered their “yes, sire” and “of course, my lord” while they waited for Hunith for disentangle herself from the king. Arthur turned his face towards her at the slight tug on his arm. She was smiling at him warmly. 

“Do not lose hope.” She said. “You are strong and so is he.” She nodded her head in the direction of Merlin, and Arthur could only force himself to give a small smile in response. She leaned up quickly and brought his head to meet hers. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before releasing his arm. Arthur, choked up and unable to speak after the gentleness of the gesture, merely gestured for the guards to gently retrieve Hunith. With a quick bow from the guards and small curtsey from Hunith, the three of them disappeared down the stairs.

Arthur took three deep breaths to regather his thoughts, before turning back to the room and closing the door. “Are we ready?”

*****

Arthur woke at the edges of the glade as he always did. Merlin was lounging alone like he always was in this scenario. He was a sight, ringed in light from the sun and small smile on his face. No matter how many times Arthur had tried to break Merlin out of this weird loop his magic had stuck him in, this image always took Arthur’s breath away. Merlin always looked so peaceful and beautiful surrounded by flowers ringed with gold. 

Arthur would have this image painted on the backs of his eyelids if he could, but now was not a time for such thought. Lott’s army would meet Camelot’s in a matter of hours, and this was Arthur’s last attempt at waking Merlin before riding out to be with his men. Arthur had spent the past five days preparing his men and the city for the attack and finding any spare moment to try this spell. The past five days of attempts had yielded the same results as the first three weeks had—absolutely nothing. Merlin was still as unresponsive as ever, and Arthur was losing hope with each useless attempt. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong, why he couldn’t seem to breakthrough to Merlin, and he knew that if this last attempt didn’t work that he would die in this battle and never get to tell Merlin everything he has been wanting to since the minute Merlin had been captured. 

Arthur watched silently, waiting for when Dream Arthur went to swim and Merlin was lounging alone to approach. He plopped himself against Merlin’s side, pressing himself close from shoulders to ankles and staring at the river. “Merlin, I need you to hear me. Please. There are things going on in Camelot, really bad things, and I need your help. Lott and Alined are marching men and sorcerers against the citadel, and we don’t have the numbers to repel them. Camelot’s in danger, and there’s nothing I can to do prevent it.” He glanced at Merlin out of the corner of his eye. Nothing seemed to be different, so he continued. “I know it’s unfair to ask this of you, especially after everything you suffered at Lott’s hands, but I know you are Camelot’s last hope as you have been so many other times. Your magic did it’s job protecting you, and I’m thankful it kept you alive, but I need you to understand that we are doomed without you and your magic, Merlin.” 

Another glance at Merlin revealed a small frown of Merlin’s face. A frown that had never been there in all the weeks that Arthur had been doing this. A small and dangerous flicker of hope sparked in Arthur’s chest. Without thought, Arthur moved his body, straddling Merlin and pressing their foreheads together. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Merlin, but Camelot needs you.” He took a deep breath. “I need you, Merlin. Please.” There was a tug in his chest, signaling the final seconds of the spell. “I love you, Merlin, and I need you to come back to me so I can tell you in person.” There was the second tug, and Arthur pressed a desperate kiss to Merlin’s brow. With one final whispered “please” everything faded to black.

*****

Arthur woke with a start. Gaius had a hand on his shoulder and Iseldir, who was shaky and pale, was standing at Merlin’s head using the palette as support. Clearly this attempt took a lot out of him. “Gaius, I’m fine. See to Isledir.” Gaius squeezed his shoulder in response and immediately went to support the druid as he led him chair. Arthur laid on Merlin’s bed, holding Merlin’s hand and staring at the ceiling. He took a few moments to gather himself before forcing himself to sit up and let go. “Are you alright, Iseldir?”

It was Gaius who answered. “He’s alright, just tired.” Iseldir took a few more moments before locking his eyes with Arthur.

“You felt it too, young Pendragon?”

“Felt what?”

“It was different this time. Something has changed.”

“Yes, I felt it, but whatever it was I fear it won’t be enough.”

All three men glanced at Merlin for a long moment before Iseldir replied. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Iseldir, perhaps you would like an escort to the border? It is not safe in the citadel.”

“Your majesty’s offer is a kind one, but uneccessary. With your knights occupied and Gaius and Guinevere tending to the wounded someone will need to be here with Emrys.” Arthur nodded.

“His mother will be here shortly, he will be well cared for.”

“That may be true, but if the battle goes poorly he will need magical protection. It would be my honor to defend him in such a way.” Iseldir rose to his feet. Arthur noted that he was still somewhat shaky, but he was determined. 

“I will not deny him protection. Thank you. If you’d like to stay you may.” Iseldir bowed his head in response. Arthur glanced out of the window, noting that it was nearly sunset. He had to leave to be with his men, but he wanted one last goodbye with Merlin. “I must leave to lead my men, but would it be possible to get a moment with Merlin alone?”

“Of course, Sire.” Gaius gave him a knowing look as he responded and quickly ushered both himself and Iseldir out of the door. Arthur watched them leave before making his way back to Merlin’s side.

He grabbed onto his hand with all of his strength, trying to pour all his wanting into the gesture. “Merlin, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you can. I know I haven’t been the best master or friend and that I’ve must have stretched your patience too many times to count, but I need you know that I’ve always appreciated your loyalty and advice and compassion even though I never showed it. I’m sorry I never told you how important you are to me, but since I’m facing death I will try to tell you now. There are so many things to say, but I do not have the time, so I will only say this—you are everything to me and I love you with all my being. My life wouldn’t be complete without you in it and I’m forever glad you stumbled into my life all those years ago. I promise I will fight with all my being to come back to you, and if I don’t, do not blame yourself—it is my time. But know I will love you until the day I die, be that tonight or years from now.” He took a steadying breath. 

“I hope that was enough and that you will remember this when you wake up, because you will wake up. I believe in you, Merlin, I always have.” With that, he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss against Merlin’s brow before giving Merlin’s hand one more firm squeeze. He released Merlin’s hand a moment later, thoughts already filled with plans for the upcoming battle.

He was so preoccupied that he failed to notice that Merlin’s hand has squeezed his back. 

*****

Hunith watched Arthur and Gaius ride away from her position near the window. She sent a quick prayer to any gods that would listen that Camelot and Arthur made it out of this. Arthur was young—had so many years still to live—and he and Merlin needed more time together. She needed Arthur to return alive and well or her son would never recover from the loss and be lost to her forever. He would wither away in front of her very eyes and every part of him that was good and kind would die with his king. This cannot be the end for them. Please do not let this be the end. The sun was nearly set now, and Hunith had been privy to many conversations about how battles in the dark were difficult, but that they couldn’t let Lott anywhere near the citadel. She sent up another prayer that this would not be the downfall of Camelot’s men before turning from the window as the two men drifted away over the horizon.

Merlin was where he normally was—lying on the patient cot with his head toward the fire. She heaved a sigh at the sight of her boy. He was so strong, she knew, but even the strongest of men can break. He’d been through so much already, and things were finally starting to look up for him. Why did things like this always have to happen to him. She gave a small sob as she took her place next to his bed and placed a hand upon his chest and the other gripped his hand. She gave it a tight squeeze before burying her face against his chest and embracing him as best she could while she wept. She’d done her best to stay strong while in the presence of his friends, who were so clearly upset at his condition, and she made it her goal to mother the king who seemed to be falling apart at the seams. It had helped—the distraction his friends and king had brought—but now, with no one left to see, she openly wept for her son.

Gaius chamber door swung open a few minutes, causing her to jump in her seat, sit up, and hastily wipe at her eyes. When she had composed herself, she turned to see who had entered the room. “Iseldir.” He only nodded as he made his way to the other stool at Merlin’s side. “I did not expect you. I was told the king escorted you back to camp earlier today.”

“He offered such a thing, but the forest is no safer now than the citadel and Emrys could use some protection.” She stared at him a moment before nodding and returning attention to her son, whose hair she smoothed from his forehead. There were a few more minutes of silence, before Iseldir spoke again. “There is no need to cry, Queen Mother, Emrys is strong. He’ll come out of this yet.”

“Queen Mother? You must be mistaken. I’m no royal.”

“You are the mother of Emrys, king of the druids and most powerful warlock to walk the Earth. To us, you will always be Queen Mother.” 

Hunith pursed her lips, every inch of her repelling against such a thought, but then she just nodded, unsure how to respond to the attention. “You really think he will recover?”

“Yes, I truly believe so.”

“Me too. But I worry at what he will return to. He will never be the same should he awake to see everyone he loves dead and the kingdom that is his home destroyed.”

“Yes. These are perilous times indeed, but Emrys must deal with such a thing for it is his destiny.”

“His destiny? What do you mean?’

“I have a feeling Emrys has never given much thought to the origins of his druidic name. He knows only parts, and I fear that will cause nothing but grief.”

“I’m sorry I do not understand.” 

“This incident, while horrific and painful, would not have killed him. In fact, there are very few things which could.” At the confused expression that must have been on her face, Iseldir continued plainly. “He is Emrys. Emrys means the immortal one.”

She couldn’t help the gasp that came out of her mouth. “You cannot mean that. You cannot possibly mean that he will live forever.”

“It is the truth.”

“How could you do this to him?”

“We have done nothing of the sort. We are not the creators of destiny merely the mouths that pass it on. Emrys is magic itself—should he die, the very magic of the earth will die with him never to return. He must live forever, for the sake of magic.”

“He will have to watch everyone he loves die for all eternity?” At Iseldir’s tiny nod of confirmation, she released another sob. “Oh my boy,” she gripped his hand and stroked her hand through his hair, “I’m so sorry. If I could take this burden from you, I would.” 

The sound of a horn in the distance, drew their attention to the window. After a quick look at each other, Iseldir rose and moved across the room to the window. “Lott’s men are approaching. It is only a matter of minutes before the battle to begin.” He turned to Hunith once more. “We must pray that the Once and Future King is victorious, or all you son has fought for will be lost before it began.” With that, he turned back to the window.


	11. Out in the Open

Merlin woke with gasp and sat up with a rush that he immediately regretted when a shock of pain went through his whole body. “Arthur.” He breathed attempting to move to get to him. Arthur was in danger. He could feel it. The sound of a bowl breaking against stone broke him out of his panic. He turned his head to locate the sound and found that a bowl of broth lay broken at someone’s feet.

“Merlin?”

“Mother.”

She rushed over to him and immediately wrapped her arms around him. “Merlin, my boy!” He was happy to see her, but despite how much he craved her warmth right now he couldn’t help the hiss of pain that escaped his mouth as she squeezed him tightly. “Oh sorry!”

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” 

Merlin watched as she bit her lip, a habit she had when she was debating telling the truth or not. Instead of an answer, Merlin only received a question. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Merlin, you were taken.”

“I was…?” Images flitted across his memory so quickly it made him dizzy, and he nearly fell off the bed. His mother gently laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Yes, I remember now. How long was I gone?”

“It took a month to rescue you, and you’ve been practically unconscious for two months.” 

Two months! There was no way he could’ve been out for two months. “Where’s Gaius?”

His mother hesitated again and only replied with “he’s out.”

“Arthur? Where’s Arthur?” Merlin watched his mother’s face crumble at that. She began to cry. “Where is he, mum?”

“He’s at the edge of the fields near the forest edge.”

“Why?”

“Lott is here with an army. Arthur and his men are there to meet them.”

“How long?”

“The first warning horn blew only a few minutes ago.”

The first warning horn, the signal to indicate enemy approach. The signal for the knights to get into position. He still had time. “I must go.” Merlin swung his feet over the bed, went to stand, and merely collapsed. His mother’s arm caught him and held him as he straightened his knees.

“Please, Merlin, you are not strong enough. Get back into bed.” His mother began to push him back down, but Merlin shrugged her hands off and rose to his full height. 

“He will die without me. I must go.” He watched his mother open her mouth to object, but he continued before she could get a word in. “I will not leave him to die out there when I could help. It is my duty to be at his side and protect him.” He sighed and sagged a little where he stood. “Please don’t try and stop me.”

She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding in resignation. “Okay.” She turned to the table a grabbed a vial. “Take this for the pain. I’ll grab you a tunic.” She handed him the vial before rushing into his room to grab his clothes. It was only then that he noticed the other person in the room.

“Iseldir.”  


“Emrys.” He bowed his head in respect. “The fate of Albion rests in your hands now. Do not fail.” His mother rushed back into the room, helped him into his tunic, and walked him to the chamber door. He gave her a peck on the cheek and as he opened the door, Iseldir spoke again. “You are stronger than you think, Emrys. You are magic itself. You are connected to the Earth in ways no other sorcerer is. Her magic and yours are the same. If you need it, the Earth will aid you. You need only ask.” 

Merlin nodded in response before slipping from the room. 

*****

He managed to make his way to the stables in record time and was surprised to see that his normal mare was the only horse that remained. She’d been with him since his third year as Arthur’s servant. The king, well prince regent at the time, had gifted her to him because of her temperament and gentleness, because despite all his years riding, he was still not great in the saddle. It had been Arthur who had bought the horse specifically for Merlin, and Merlin was eternally grateful. 

Patience knickered and swished her tail as Merlin made his way over. He stood in front of her, hand on her snout, and spoke softly. “You’ve been a great horse, Patience, and I need your help. We have to be quick, Arthur is in danger. Can you get him to me quickly?” Patience whinnied and threw her head up and down in response. “I thought so.” Merlin smiled gently and gave her snout a quick pat. He decided to forgo the saddle. It would take too long to ready, so instead he simply untied her from her stall, threw her halter and reins on as quickly as he could, and clumsily mounted her. “Quickly now.” With that her pointed her out of the stables and took off at a gallop.

Patience was galloping as fast as she could out of the empty city streets. The pace was aggravating Merlin’s already broken body, but he ignored the pain and simply dug his heels into her sides to encourage her to go faster. He needed to get there before the second horn. He needed to get there before the battle actually began. It didn’t matter now, what happened to him, it only mattered that Arthur could live to rule. He didn’t bargain with the Sidhe just for Arthur to die now. Arthur couldn’t die now—he would ensure it, by any means necessary. 

He reached the fields in record time. He was galloping quickly through the abandoned campsite and heading toward the Camelot army, whose silhouettes could be seen in the moonlight, and whose torches were scattered amongst the black mass that was the whole army. Merlin barely had time to think that there were so few of them when he spotted the torchlight breaking through the tree line. He was just in time then. He could feel Patience flagging under Merlin’s relentless page he just rested a hand against her neck, “just get me to the front line, then you can rest.” He felt her heave a huge breath and her speed increased just a little. 

It took only a few more seconds before Camelot’s army was more than just a shapeless form. Merlin watched as those in the back seemed to register the sound of his horse and began to turn. As he reached the line, the men began to part the way for him. Patience slowed a bit, to avoid injuring Camelot’s men. A hush fell over the garrison, and they stared with wide eyes as Merlin made his way through the crowd. It took a minute or two to work his way through the mass to the front, but he pulled Patience to an abrupt halt just as the second horn blew signaling that Lott’s men had arrived. 

He dismounted quickly, ignoring Arthur’s shocked cry of “Merlin!” that sounded from somewhere to his left. He was weak and shaking, a result of the injuries being disturbed so thoroughly before beginning to heal. His magic was burning low in his gut, lending him strength he wouldn’t have otherwise. He needed that now. There had been too many losses in the recent years. Too many had died in wars that Merlin had the power to prevent from ever happening if he had just been less afraid, but Arthur knew about his magic now, and though it was still illegal under Camelot’s laws, he would use his magic now to prevent any more deaths. It was time to stop cowering in the shadows; it was time to stop letting others die for the sake of keeping his secret. Merlin would end this war here and now. He began his trek out to the space between the opposing armies, when an arm gently stopped him after a few steps. “Merlin? What are you doing?” It was Arthur, of course it was, but Merlin didn’t care right now what Arthur thought, there was nothing that would sway him from his decision now. 

Merlin could feel Arthur’s eyes on the side of his face, but Merlin couldn’t look at him right now—couldn’t face the emotions he knew would be displayed on Arthur’s face. His magic moved restlessly within him in a way it never had before. Merlin could tell it wanted to break free as much as he wanted to use it. He kept his eyes locked on the enemy army who was shifting restlessly less than fifty yards away. Instead of looking at his king, Merlin released a tiny bit of magic, just enough to give a small shock to force Arthur to release his arm. Arthur released a gasp of shock as his hand released Merlin’s arm. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but I have to do this.” Merlin took a step forward, and before Arthur could get over his shock to move with him, Merlin threw up a shield. 

He seemed to have underestimated how out of control his magic was at the moment, because instead a small shield to prevent Arthur and Camelot’s men from rushing after him, his magic created a dome-like shield over the entirety of the citadel. Arthur attempted to break through it, causing the whole thing to ripple like a disturbed lake. It glittered a slight gold as it moved, and Merlin watched as Camelot’s men looked around and gaped at the sheer size of the protective shield. Merlin put a hand to it and closed his eyes, to test its strength and see how far it actually extended. It seems his magic had used the castle as the center point for the shield as the edges extended in equal measurement of one league from the center of the castle. He pushed against it with his magic once more to reinforce it, so that if he should die, it would provide adequate protection for Arthur, his men, and the citadel. 

He opened his eyes and was met with a distressed looking Arthur. “Merlin, you idiot, let me out. Please Merlin, don’t do this.” 

“It is my duty, Arthur. Please forgive me.” Arthur seemed to melt a little at that. He simply put his hand up to Merlin’s on the other side of the shield. Merlin gave a small quirk of the lips and ignored the painful tug in his chest at the sight of Arthur so clearly distraught before turning from his king and marching into the valley between the armies.  


When he had centered himself again, Merlin reached out with his magic, attempting to get a read on Lott’s army. His magic sensed multiple sorcerers of considerable power, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He was about to retract his magic after determining the rest to be ordinary men when something from deep within the earth tugged on his focus and began pulling his magic further away. It brought his consciousness to the outside of the protective shield where he felt three more garrisons of men marching on different points around the citadel. The tugging stopped and Merlin gasped as his magic snapped back into his body. Distantly he felt some of the wounds on his back reopen and begin bleeding, but the pain didn’t register.

“Lott, come out and face me, you coward.” His magic amplified his voice, echoing into the distance. There would be no mistaking that he was speaking. He needed everyone to hear him. A rustle drew his attention. Lott and Alined emerged from the tree line where the majority of their army was lying in wait. 

“Ah Emrys, what a pleasure to meet you again.” 

“I’ll give you one warning, Lott. Return to your kingdom with your army, and I will spare the lives of you and your men.” 

“You wouldn’t kill us.”

“I do not want to, but I will.”

It was Alined who spoke this time. “What could you possibly do? You are just a boy.”

“I am much more than that.”

Lott laughed and turned to Alined. “Morgana claimed this boy was Emrys, but I haven’t seen anything of a powerful sorcerer within him. It seems Morgana was mistaken.”

Merlin rose to his full height and pulled his shoulders back. He must have been a sight, injured, bleeding, bruised, but standing upright and defiant. A lone man between two armies. “Morgana knew nothing, but she challenged me as you are now. She’s now dead. I’ve let too many march on my home. I’ve let too many endanger the lives of my friends, my family, and the ones I love. I will not stand by and let it happen again. I suggest you take my offer, my mercy is not long lasting. It is your last chance. Turn back now, and I will spare you.”

“We are not cowards, boy.” Alined spat at him. “We do not want your mercy. You are just a boy, and a foolish one at that.” He turned his head towards the trees and moved his hand forward. “Kill him.” The six sorcerers stepped away from the trees and began to chant. Fireballs began to form in their hands. The next moment, six massive fireballs were heading directly at Merlin. Without a word, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and all the fireballs died before they had even moved a foot. 

“Impossible,” Alined muttered. The sorcerers began to chant again, but with the flick of his wrist the six of them were flung back into the trees, whose bark moved without prompting to pin them there and gag them. 

“It’s no matter, Alined.” King Lott said “He’s just a fool with a little bit of magic. And he’s a fool who seems to have underestimated us.”

“I think it’s you, Lott, who has underestimated me. What Morgana told you was true. I am Emrys, and I have been King Arthur’s protector since the minute I set foot in the citadel. I have fought against all manner of things including but not limited to bandits, witches, griffins, trolls, goblins and sidhe. I have convened with the Fisher King and defeated Cornelius Sigan. I have controlled the power over life and death and hold the favor of the triple goddess of the Old Religion. I have seen the lake of Avalon and been to the crystal cave. I have spoken with, tamed, and hatched dragons and met with seers of old. I have killed the last three High Priestesses Nimueh, Morgause, and Morgana, and defeated not one, not two, but three different immortal armies, and I have done it all in the name of the Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon. I have done all that from the shadows, so imagine what I can do standing here in the open now.” 

Lott and Alined had paled slightly as Merlin had ranted, and Merlin knew he had them. “You can think me a boy, which I haven’t been in many years, and you can think me a fool, but if you think me fool enough to disregard the garrisons you have attempting to surround the citadel then you are sorely mistaken.” At that, the two kings standing in front of him looked nervous and unsure, casting nervous glances at each other out of the corner of their eyes. “If you think that you will win that way you won’t.” Merlin’s eyes flashed and the shield surrounding the citadel and the army and everything in between behind him sparkled gold and shimmered in the moonlight. Lott’s and Alined’s jaws dropped, so Merlin continued. “Your men will try to breach it, and you may think me too weak to defend against them all, but I have friends who will fight for the world Arthur will build.” 

Merlin looked up to the sky, a roared so loudly nearly everyone flinched. “_O drakons, fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro! _” It took only mere moments for two different wing beats to be heard. Kilgharrah and Aithusa flew overhead, close enough that the opposing kings to duck instinctively. The two dragons separate, each heading to a different area around the citadel, areas Merlin knew where occupied by the opposing forces. From this distance, the dragons are little more that dark blobs that occasionally catch the moonlight, but their intention is unmistakable. The dragons dive on the garrisons, releasing fire and bringing death with them. 

There’s dead silence across the field when Merlin turned again to face the two enemy kings. It was Lott who broke the silence. “Impossible, all the dragonlords are dead. Morgana said nothing of this. It must surely be a trick.”

“I assure you, it is no trick. And I said before, Morgana knew nothing. My father was Balinor Ambrosius, last dragonlord who was betrayed by Uther Pendragon at the beginning of the purge. When he died, his gift passed to me.” He narrowed his eyes as the two shifted on their feet. “That’s two of the three garrisons around the citadel taken care of, will you accept my offer? Be mindful, this is your last chance. I could’ve killed your entire army the minute I set foot on the ground, but I didn’t because I am a man that hates violence, who strives for peace, and shows mercy. I do not want to kill you or your men, but should you refuse this last time I will have no qualm with doing what needs to be done when it comes to protecting my king and my home. Continue to challenge me, and you will see exactly who you are underestimating.” 

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Lott screamed at him, spittle flying from his mouth as he ranted. “I should have taken you to my bed and used you as you were meant to be used, taken you whether you cooperated or not. I should’ve allowed myself a taste of the boy King Arthur has taken such a liking too, and when I was done I should’ve killed you to break the spirit of the boy king in Camelot. Would’ve made this whole conquest easier.”

Merlin heaved a sigh and silenced Lott without a word. “If you’re done I will have your answer. Think carefully, Lott, people’s lives depend on your response. Do not make me kill them because of your foolishness and pride.” He released his hold on Lott, who immediately opened his mouth to respond. 

“We are kings! We do not take orders from farm boys and we do not want your mercy. We will have Camelot, even if we have to kill you to do it.”

“So be it.” Merlin turned from the kings, throwing up a small shield in case either of them were cowardly enough to try to stab him while his back was turned. Looking back toward the citadel, he could see Aithusa and Kilgharrah circling as he instructed. He stretched his magic again, to feel where the last garrison was approaching the shield, and when he pinpointed his location, he drew back into his body and gathered himself. Without words he called to the sky, asking for its aid, and in the distance clouds gathered and rain began to pour. He spoke over his shoulder at the two kings behind him, “Just remember, these men’s deaths are on your hands.” With that, he raised his hands and lightning rained down in the distance, striking down every man that had marched on the city. Despite the darkness and the distance, it was clear this storm was intentional, that the lightning was hitting the ground in precise places. It had used to be hard, manipulating the natural order, but in this moment, with the earth aiding him, supporting his magic, it was easy. In his mind, Merlin was recoiling slightly at the destruction he was causing, and he steeled himself against the thoughts of questing beasts and Nimueh, whose death was eerily similar to the ones Merlin was causing now. It took only moments for the distant storm to recede and Merlin released his hold on the magic when he sensed that there were no more men alive. 

He released a breath as he turned back to the two kings, actively avoiding looking at Arthur who stood a few feet behind him, just on the other side of shield. He didn’t think he could finish this if he looked at Arthur. He took in a deep breath, before locking eyes with Lott. Without looking away, Merlin called for his kin again. “ _O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes! _” Mere seconds later, both Aithusa and Kilgharrah landed off to the side, close enough that Kilgharrah’s tail could wrap itself around Merlin’s ankle. Merlin smiled to himself slightly when the two kings flinched at the proximity of the dragons and the entire army took a collective step back. “Anyone else want to try?” 

The entire army behind Lott and Alined shifted uneasily on their feet while throwing uncertain and fearful glances to each other. “What are you fools doing? Kill him, he’s just a boy.” Lott turned when his order was met with nervous muttering and shaking heads. “Amron!”

A man stepped forward from the garrison on Merlin’s left. Merlin recognized him immediately and he sent a glare at Camelot’s ex-lord. Merlin shouldn’t have been so surprised. Amron was a coward sure, but he was a man who craved power. He was bound to seek it out in other kingdoms, and Lott would have rewarded him well for any information that could’ve been used against Camelot. “Yes, sire?”

“Lead your garrison, kill this boy so we can take what’s rightfully ours.”

“I will do so with great pleasure, my lord.” He gestured over his shoulders to his battalion and all the sudden a couple hundred people, about one-third of the remaining forces, were running, somewhat hesitantly, toward Merlin. It didn’t matter to him, Merlin could still feel the Earth pulsating under his feet lending him strength and magic that could do the impossible. He gathered his strength, crouched close to the ground, and locked eyes with Amron who was leading the charge before slamming his palm down onto the ground. The shaking and rumbling of the Earth and Amron’s widening eyes were the only indication that something was wrong before the ground abruptly split open, creating a crevice to somewhere deep in the Earth. 

It took only moments for the entire battalion to be swallowed up by the Earth and the chasm to close itself again. He heaved a sigh of relief and sent a thanks to the Earth for its help. He released an unsteady breath before rising from his position on shaky legs. When he was standing, his eyes roamed over the rest of the army. There were more nervous glances between the men, and it only took a few seconds for the rest of them to drop their weapons and turn tail back into the forest. With a small smirk, Merlin whispered a spell that would ensure that all those men left Camelot. 

There was dead silence across the field. It was the kind of silence where you could hear a pin drop. It was the kind of silence usually only achieved by the dead. Merlin watched as Alined and Lott shared one last look before both turned abruptly from Merlin to attempt to flee as the remnants of their army just did. “Oh no you don’t.” Merlin reached out with his magic again freezing them in place. “If you thought I was kind enough to let you leave after everything you are sorely mistaken.” He brought both kings back around to face him and the army he knew was behind him. He could tell by the looks on the kings’ faces that he was frightening. They both attempted to struggle out of the hold Merlin’s magic had on them before realizing it was futile. They slumped in his hold, and Merlin spoke. “Just one moment, I’ll be with you shortly.” He dropped them to their knees, hands behind their backs, and mouths temporarily gagged. When he was certain they were secure, Merlin marched over to the tree line where the six sorcerers were still trapped by the trees. 

“You should all be ashamed to call yourselves sorcerers. Magic should be used for good, to bring peace and prosperity with it. Judging by your clothing and tattoos, as ex-druids, this is not a new concept to you. You must’ve known about the prophecies and yet you doubted me enough to march on the heart of Albion.” A man on Merlin’s right shook his head as much as was allowed by the strip of bark gagging him. With a wave of his hand, the gag retreated back into the tree. 

“You serve a Pendragon,” the man spit, “we would never follow a sorcerer who serves a Pendragon.” 

“I serve the Once and Future King, the fact that he was a Pendragon should matter not. That should’ve been enough for you—should’ve been enough for all of you. But since it wasn’t and you abused your power I will make sure the punishment fits the crime. I will make sure none of you will be able to abuse your power again.” He spoke the spell quickly, pulling the magic from the men and women in front of him. He pulled hard, making sure there were no remnants of magic left to be channeled by any of them. The free magic rushed toward him, like finding like, and with another spell Merlin filtered the stolen magic back into the Earth where it belonged. He was so attuned to the magic of the Earth the he felt the joy the Earth felt at the return of the magic. She seemed to sigh in relief, and Merlin smiled to himself. 

When the last of the free magic was channeled into the Earth, Merlin said a small prayer. “A repayment for the help you have given me this night. It will be in better hands with you than with them. Use it to wash away the stain of blood this war has left on you.” As he finished, Merlin felt a soft breeze blow by him, kissing his cheek in appreciation. Merlin waved his hand and the trees holding the ex-sorcerers in place returned to their original shape, and all six druids dropped to the ground with a grunt.  
Merlin looked at them with eyes blazing, he could feel his anger radiating from him in waves of power that he was unable to control. He spoke lowly, but there was no mistaking that he was dangerous. “Leave this land and spread the word. Camelot and her king are protected. Albion’s golden age will come and any who challenge that will find themselves on the wrong end of my temper. Tell the story of what happened here tonight and stress that Emrys works from the shadows no more. I will not be so kind to those who would threaten my king.” The six ex-druids looked at him in fear and awe from their places on the ground. “Go!” At his last command, the six of them scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the trees. 

Merlin turned back around, facing the citadel, which stood tall and mighty and beautiful in the moonlight. He sighed once, and without acknowledging the shocked faces of the Camelot army or her king, he made his way over to the two dragons. “Thank you both for your help.” Aithusa took a step forward and nudged his stomach in response. “I could not have done this without you.”

“We are at your service, should you call we will answer.” 

“I know, Kilgharrah, thank you anyways.”

The large dragon bent his head down to lock his eyes on Merlin. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before he lifted his head again and gave a small chuckle. “The prophecies about you were not wrong, young warlock.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve never seen such power in anyone, let alone someone so young. You will do many remarkable things yet. Albion has a bright future indeed.”

“Thank you, old friend. Would you keep an eye on Aithusa for me? When things have settled down I would like to see what we could do about her deformities.” 

“I will keep an eye on the young one and will await your call. Now, it seems you have a couple of kings to deal with. We’ll be on our way.” Merlin gave Aithusa a quick pat on the head when she chirped and nudged him to get his attention, and before he knew it, the two dragons were flying off into the night. He stared at the dark sky far after the two had disappeared, and when he finally turned back towards the two, still frozen, kings he accidentally made eye contact with Arthur, who looked a mixture of worried and angry. _ Best get this over with _ Merlin thought to himself as he walked back to the enemy kings. 

“As much as I’d like to kill you here and now,” Merlin began “It is the right of my king to try and sentence you. Your punishment will be one of his choosing.” There was a slight flicker of hope in Lott’s eyes, and Merlin knew he had to quash that before anything else. “Make no mistake, Arthur will not be merciful, but he is a fair and just man and a trial is about as far as his mercy extends.” Lott seemed to slump back into himself at the reminder and Merlin knew his job was done. 

In fact, now that he thought about it, he was in pain—a great amount of pain that spanned the whole length of his body. He gave himself a quick glance and noticed that nearly all his wounds had reopened, the strength that had overcome was quickly waning and he knew he was not long for consciousness. With his remaining strength he took a few steps towards Arthur before promptly releasing the shield around the city and the men. As soon as it was done, Arthur barked a few orders that Merlin couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears and the pounding in his head. There was something leaking on Merlin’s face, something that was making Merlin’s upper lip wet. Merlin raised a shaking hand to his face, only to have it come away red with blood. He looked up again at Arthur who was looking away and commanding his men to do something, secure the prisoners, maybe. Merlin wasn’t sure. 

“Arthur…”

The king abruptly turned face the man who had whispered his name. Merlin wanted to say something, but before he could even open his mouth, his knees buckled and he collapsed. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.


	12. A Different Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was Arthur's perspective of the events that took place last chapter? Read ahead to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm in college, finding time to write can be hard. I am doing my best to write whenever I find the time. I do plan on finishing this story completely, so please be patient as I write around my midterms. Also, thank you all for the super kind comments and all the kudos. It means so much that you guys are enjoying this story so much. Please feel free to spam me with comments I do read them, and I usually can't help but smile.

When he heard the familiar sound of hoofbeats coming from behind the Camelot army, Arthur had been expecting a messenger from the citadel or something. What he didn’t expect was to see a still injured Merlin come thundering through the ranks at a gallop. He certainly didn’t expect him to basically throw himself off his horse before she had even come to a complete stop, and he couldn’t help the cry of “Merlin” that fell from his lips. Merlin looked terrible, still pale and shaky and even through his tunic Arthur could tell that his injuries were still fresh. Despite that, there was power coming off of him and lending him strength when he would otherwise have none. 

Arthur studied the side of Merlin’s face, waiting for him to acknowledge the fact that Arthur was standing right next to him, torn between joy that Merlin was finally awake and despair because he knew Merlin was about to do something monumentally stupid. It was the way Merlin seemed to be lost in thought, and there was no mistaking the look of determination on his face. As Merlin took a few steps forward, Arthur couldn’t help but stop him with a gentle hand on his arm. When Merlin refused to face him, Arthur decided to get his attention. “Merlin? What are you doing?” Merlin remained where he was, eyes scanning the enemy at the tree line. 

Seconds later, there was a small shock to Arthur’s hand that was more surprising than painful, but it was unexpected enough that Arthur let go of Merlin’s arm in response. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but I have to do this.” Merlin took a few steps forward again, and though Arthur wanted to follow, the warmth that flooded Arthur at hearing Merlin’s voice, scratchy and rough with disuse though it was, seemed to freeze him to the spot. He was only broken out of his reverie when a gold-tinted wall went up inches from his face. It took a few seconds for Arthur to realize what was going on, but as soon as he did, he pounded against the shield, attempting to get through—to stop Merlin from killing himself in some stupid self-sacrificial act that would ruin Arthur for the rest of his life. 

Merlin was currently pressing his hands against the barrier with his eyes closed and Arthur shifted a few inches to his right to be in Merlin’s eyesight when he opened his eyes. It took a short while, for Merlin was clearly doing something important judging by the slight furrow to his brow, but when Merlin’s eyes opened and met Arthur’s, something broke in him. “Merlin, you idiot, let me out. Please Merlin, don’t do this.” Merlin looked at him for a few seconds before responding. 

“It is my duty, Arthur. Please forgive me.” A little of Arthur’s panic faded at that. Merlin was just trying to protect him, and as long as Merlin lived there would be nothing to forgive. He wanted to tell Merlin that, but it seemed the words got stuck somewhere in his throat so he simply put his hand up to the barrier, aligning it with Merlin’s—trying to pour out everything he was feeling and everything he couldn’t say into that small gesture. Merlin gave a small smile in response before turning away and marching to stand halfway between the two armies. Now all he could do was watch—watch and pray to anyone listening that Merlin would make it out of this alive. 

*****

Arthur didn’t even know how long it’d been since Merlin had stood between the two armies, but he couldn’t really process anything other than the sheer power Merlin was commanding. He’d never seen anyone wield power like that, and he was so engrossed with the proceedings in front of him that he barely registered the men at his back who were whispering amongst themselves. He just stood, inches from the shield, and watched as Merlin defeated an army. 

It started, as is natural for Merlin, with insolence. “Lott, come out and face me, you coward.” Arthur couldn’t help but tense at the words. Lott would not appreciate being called such a thing, and Arthur was preparing to see the whole army charge at such an insult, but instead the two king’s strode forward with all the arrogance and smugness one would expect from men like them. He heard them respond, heard as Lott greeted him like one would greet a friend and watched as Merlin’s body seemed to tighten unconsciously at the familiarity. 

Then it was just back and forth between Merlin and the enemy, and Arthur couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face when Alined’s insults only seemed to rile Merlin even more. There was pride blossoming in his chest, too, at the sight of Merlin rising to his full height and standing tall and proud as he faced the two men. There was anger in his voice as he spoke, but he remained calm as he told them to retreat—as he gave them one opportunity to take advantage of his merciful nature.  


He couldn’t help but flinch when Alined ordered his sorcerers to attack and six massive balls of fire were pointed in Merlin’s direction, and Arthur released a breath when, with a dismissive wave of his hand, Merlin smothered them before they even made it half the distance. Alined muttered something Arthur couldn’t catch from this distance, but he watched as the sorcerers began again only to be flung back into the trees by Merlin’s infinitesimal nod. Lott responded to the events by dismissing Merlin for a fool, and Arthur couldn’t help but grin at their ignorance. 

In response to the blatant dismissal, Merlin simply tensed and began to speak. He was smooth and certain as he outlined what he had done, all the amazing things he alone had done, and Arthur smiled in satisfaction as he watched the two enemy kings pale and shrink slightly as they listened. From his position, Arthur could see the small smirk on Merlin’s lips in response and Arthur knew he was nowhere near finished. As he continued, Arthur watched as Lott’s and Alined’s smugness was replaced by fear and uncertainty when Merlin made the massive shield shimmer in the moonlight. 

But then Merlin did something Arthur was not expecting, he looked up to the sky and roared in a language Arthur didn’t recognize. It took seconds for the wing beats to be heard and for the shapes of not one but two dragons to fly overhead. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could see the two king’s duck instinctively but he followed the dark masses with his eyes. He turned to watch as they rained fire down upon garrisons Arthur hadn’t even known were there. It took mere minutes for the dragons to be done, and distantly Arthur could hear the two king’s challenging Merlin once more. 

When the rain of fire in the distance finally ceased, Arthur returned his attention to Merlin, who was a mixture of rage and power, and for a breathtaking moment, Merlin seemed to glow a brilliant white gold that radiated warmth that Arthur could swear he could feel. Then with a blink of an eye, the warmth and light were gone and all that was left was the outline of Merlin in the darkness. Arthur shook his head to clear it of the image it had just seen, just as Lott lost whatever arrogance he had and began to spit in Merlin’s face as he yelled. “I should have killed you when I had the chance. I should’ve taken you to my bed and used you as you were meant to be used, taken you whether you cooperated or not. I should’ve allowed myself a taste of the boy King Arthur has taken such a liking too, and when I was done I should’ve killed you to break the spirit of the boy king in Camelot. Would’ve made this whole conquest easier.” 

Though the words filled Arthur with an undefinable rage, a rage that made Arthur want to rip Lott’s throat out with his bare hands or torture him for the rest of eternity for even thinking he could lay hands on Merlin in such a disgusting and boorish way. Despite all of Lott’s yelling and posturing like a man desperate to prove something and despite the fact that such a statement should have enraged Merlin like it enraged Arthur, Merlin only seemed bored. He only sighed and offered clemency one last time to which Lott refused again. 

With the refusal seemingly all he needed, Merlin turned his back on the kings to face the citadel. Arthur turned with him to see what he was looking for when Merlin spoke again to remind the king’s that the deaths of these men were on their hands. Arthur’s confusion at the random statement was alleviated seconds later when in the distance, a storm gathered faster than Arthur had ever seen and lightning began to strike. It took him a minute to connect the fact that this storm was of magical origin to the fact that there was one more garrison to be taken care of. When it connected, Arthur couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. He looked over his shoulder at Merlin to see that his eyes were blazing gold and his arm was outstretched, directing the lightening to where it needed to go. 

When Merlin released his hold, he staggered slightly before turning back towards the enemy. He took a deep breath, locked eyes with Lott who was looking like a man heading to his execution, before roaring to the sky again. The dragons landed next to Merlin seconds later, where the Great Dragon wrapped his tail, almost possessively, around Merlin’s ankle and caused the enemy to flinch and take a collective step back. Then Arthur watched as Merlin smirked, _smirked!_, and said “anyone else want to try,” and Arthur huffed a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. 

Lott seemed to think this couldn’t get any worse, so Arthur watched as he shouted manically at his men and then order an all too familiar face to step forward and lead a charge. Amron smiled delightedly like he couldn’t wait to remove Merlin’s head from his shoulders, and although Arthur knew the ex-noble would never get close enough, he still flinched when Amron led a couple hundred men from the trees. Two thirds of the enemy army remained just inside the trees, shifting nervously from foot to foot as they watched the others rush hesitantly from the trees. Merlin merely stood there, proud and disinterested, as Amron began closing the distance between them. Then with a deep breath, Merlin crouched to the ground, looked back up at the enemy running at him, before slamming the heel of his hand into the ground. 

There was a rumbling, deep beneath Arthur’s feet and the ground in front of Merlin started to shake before promptly splitting open, creating a deep cavern that spread out and out until the entire battalion had been swallowed by the Earth. Arthur couldn’t help but to gape as the Earth closed and the fields returned to their original position as if nothing had happened. Then the clattering of metal caught Arthur’s attention and tore him from his staring. He looked up in time to see the rest of Lott’s men fleeing back into the forest, weapons abandoned behind them. The two enemy king’s shared a glance before quickly trying to follow their men, but before they got so much as five steps, Merlin had stopped them, brought them to their knees and left them there. 

Arthur watched Merlin stalk to the tree line to have a brief but clearly heated conversation with the sorcerers, who up until this point Arthur had even forgotten existed. The conversation was too quiet for Arthur to hear, but he watched as best he could in the darkness as Merlin released them from their tree bark shackles and sent them running into the forest with one last sharp command. 

When Merlin was finished with the sorcerers he turned away from the tree line and Arthur’s breath caught at the vision. Merlin was bathed in the silver light of the full moon. It outlined his frame, creating a sort of halo around his head. He looked ethereal, like some ancient god come to earth, and maybe he is Arthur thought to himself. It would explain why Merlin was so powerful, why he was so unlike any other person Arthur had ever known. Arthur, over the years, had sometimes looked at Merlin and thought there was something of the fae about him. He didn’t know if it was his looks, the paleness of his skin and the sharpness of his cheekbones would certainly fit the description, or if it was the way Merlin spoke, calmly but cryptic in a way that would suggest he both knew everything yet nothing at the same time. Whatever it was, the description fit now, with Merlin softly bathed in moonlight which seemed to caress him lovingly, like it was a privilege to do so. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed Merlin moving from the tree line to plant himself in front of the two dragons, who stood proud and gleaming in the night. Whatever it was that was projecting Merlin’s voice across the field seemed to have died shortly before, for the only aspects of the conversation that Arthur could hear was when the Great Dragon replied. And wasn’t that ironic, that Arthur could’ve just bargained with the thing when it had attacked years ago instead of nearly killing himself. Arthur didn’t pay much attention to this conversation, too busy lost replaying all he had just seen and the power he’d just witnessed. It was a slight shock. It was one thing to hear ‘greatest sorcerer to ever live,’ and it was entirely different to see it firsthand. He was slightly in awe to know that Merlin chose to use that magic to protect the kingdom, to protect Arthur from harm, and his heart melted slightly to know that Merlin was so loyal. 

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and Arthur watched the two dragons disappear from sight. Merlin stood staring after them long after the two had disappeared from sight. Anger flared briefly in Arthur’s chest. The anger wasn’t directed at Merlin, oh no, it was directed at his father, mostly, but a little was directed at himself. It made him angry to know that Merlin could’ve stopped so much pain and suffering over the years if he could’ve just been himself. If magic hadn’t been banned, Camelot could’ve been spared all the death and pain the purge wrought, and that Morgana had unleashed as a result. It was Arthur’s father who began it all, but it was Arthur who had continued it blindly. The blame was mostly Uther’s, but there was enough blame for father and son to share. There was a moment, as Merlin turned from his position, where the two of them locked eyes, and if Arthur had known Merlin less or hadn’t been paying close enough attention, he would’ve missed the nearly subtle flinch Merlin made in response to the eye contact. Arthur realized something of his emotions must have been displayed on his face, so he carefully made his face neutral again as Merlin made his way to the two remaining enemies.

And as Arthur watched Merlin cast aside his revenge for the pain and injustice Lott had wrought against him. As he watched Merlin defer to Arthur even now with both kings on their knees, vulnerable and defenseless, Arthur made two vows. First, he would overturn the ban on magic, so that those born with magic and those who chose to use it to heal and protect would be free from persecution. Second, he would make sure Merlin knew how much his loyalty meant to Arthur. Arthur would make sure Merlin never had any doubts about how special he was and how grateful Arthur was that someone like Merlin had wandered into his life and decided that Arthur was the type of man worth fighting for. Merlin would never have to live as a shadow ever again, not if Arthur had any say. 

Merlin’s movement snapped Arthur back to attention. Merlin was taking a few steps toward him. He looked exhausted, and it was only then that Arthur remembered that Merlin was injured. He gave Merlin a quick once over, noting the fact that Merlin’s tunic and breeches seemed to be steadily staining with blood. He wouldn’t last long, Arthur knew, but he just hoped Merlin’s magic would hold the prisoners until he dropped the shield and Arthur’s men could restrain them. Almost as if hearing Arthur’s thoughts, the shield between them dropped, and Arthur barked at his men to bring the chains and restrain the kings. He was about to bark some more orders when Merlin whispered his name. The orders died on his lips as he whipped back to face his sorcerer, whose nose and ears were both bleeding steadily. Merlin’s eyes were partially vacant, and Arthur knew Merlin was about to collapse. He was already covering the distance between them when Merlin’s knees buckled and his eyes rolled back in his head. Arthur managed to catch him around the shoulders and guide Merlin’s head into his lap. He was clearly already unconscious and he was losing blood alarmingly fast. Frantically he shouted at Leon, Percival, and Gwaine. It took them only seconds to be at his side. 

“Sire,” Leon spoke from above him “he needs Gaius’ care.” 

“Yes.” Arthur replied, eyes still on Merlin in his arms. “Gwaine take two horses. Stop by the infirmary and escort Gaius back to his chambers. It’ll be easier to treat him inside.” Gwaine didn’t respond, but the jangling of his chainmail as he hurried away was enough of a reply. Now Arthur knew that Merlin had to be taken back to the castle, but as much as he wanted to do it, he was king. He had to be here to direct cleanup and the army’s return. He looked up and was about to order Percival to take Merlin back to Gaius’ chambers, when Leon interrupted him. 

“Sire, you take Merlin back. Percival and I can handle the cleanup and deal with the men.”

“But—”

“We know how much he means to you, and with everything that just happened the men will understand. Just take Hengroen, he should be strong enough to carry you both. We’ll deal with matters here.” Arthur was about to protest again, but he looked down at Merlin again and the fight left him. Merlin needed immediate attention, there was no use arguing. Arthur smiled in thanks at his head night, and then with all his strength he gathered Merlin fully into his arms and rose to his feet. Hengroen, his beloved war stallion, was dancing slightly as Arthur approached, clearly antsy for action of any sort. Hopefully the sprint to the castle would cure that, but Arthur swore he’d take Hengroen out for some solid exercise as soon as he could. Percival stopped just behind Arthur as they reached the stallion’s flank. Arthur turned to him, gently placing the unconscious sorcerer into his arms, so that mounting Hengroen was easier. As soon as Arthur was seated, Percival gently transferred Merlin back into Arthur’s arms, and Arthur released a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding as soon as Merlin was settled relatively comfortably against his chest. With a firm grip on the reins and a nod at Percival, Arthur kicked Hengroen into gallop, actively avoiding how similar this was to the situation from two months ago. 

*****

The door to Gaius’ chamber was already open when he got to the top of the stairs. Gaius and Hunith were bustling about, grabbing different vials and bowls and bandages or whatever it was they thought they would need. Gwaine and Iseldir were sitting at Gaius’ dining table talking quietly amongst themselves. “Where should I put him?” It seemed the four of them hadn’t heard Arthur come in as all of them startled slightly at his voice. The surprise didn’t last long and Gaius was directing him to the patient palette, and as soon as Merlin was free from the king’s arms, Hunith and Gaius got to work. 

There was silence for a full candle mark before anyone spoke. Arthur had taken a seat next to Gwaine waiting for Gaius and Hunith to finish with whatever they needed to care for Merlin. It was Gaius who spoke. “Sire.” He was standing next to the table, and Arthur glanced around until his eyes landed on Merlin.

“How is he?”

“I think he will be okay.”

“You think?”

“It’s difficult to say, Sire. He has lost a lot of blood which is my main concern. Most of his previous wounds were reopened with the stress. Besides that, he is physically exhausted. Only the gods know how he had the strength to do what he did. Even the most powerful of sorcerers would be exhausted after just one of those spells let alone all of them. It truly is a miracle is still alive.” Arthur must have grimaced for Gaius rushed to reassure him. “We’ve stopped the bleeding and cleaned and rebandaged the wounds. I believe that if Merlin makes it through the night, he will make a full recovery.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

“Make no mistake, Arthur, it will be a long and difficult recovery. He will most likely be bed ridden for a long time.” Arthur could only nod in response. There was silence for a few more minutes before Gaius spoke again. “Gwaine and Iseldir, could you help me move him to his bed. It will be more comfortable for him there.” There was movement, as Gwaine and Iseldir rose to help Gaius. There was shuffling noises further in the room as the three men carefully began moving Merlin, but Arthur couldn’t stop staring at the table in front of him. He’d nearly lost Merlin again, still could if fate decided that Merlin’s destiny was done. 

A hand on his shoulder tore him out of his melancholy thoughts. Hunith was kneeling next to him.  
“Let’s go get you cleaned up, sire.” Hunith’s gentle hand pulled him up from the bench, and Arthur glanced down at himself to find himself covered in blood—Merlin’s blood. Arthur shuddered slightly but nodded as Hunith began to lead him from the room. 

*****

They walked silently back to Arthur’s chambers. She seemed to realize Arthur needed the quiet more than anything else. When they arrived at his chambers, she bustled him quietly but quickly through the door. She plopped him down at one of the dining chairs before she turned to the fireplace and began to build a small fire. The summer had flown by, and as the season was winding to a close the nights began to chill. Autumn was closing in, and the weather would begin to cool within a week or two, and secretly Arthur couldn’t wait for the somewhat cooler weather. 

By the time Hunith had finished banking the fire, Arthur had gone back to absent-minded staring. He heard her sigh slightly as she passed him, moving to the door mumbling about something. He heard her open the door and speak softly but with conviction to the guards at the door. He distantly heard her instruct the guards to find servants to prepare a bath, but he was too lost in thought to really care. What seemed like seconds later, there was the sound of the metal tub being dragged across the floor and Arthur heard Hunith’s small whispered thanks. 

For the next couple of minutes, she let him sit in silence, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands dangling motionlessly between his thighs. He heard her whispered commands as servants came in with the pales of heated water. The soft splashing of water was occasionally interrupted by Hunith’s footsteps as she moved about the room, cleaning and tending to whatever she deemed necessary. She hummed as she worked, a happy little tune that Arthur recognized as one Merlin tended to favor, and his heart hammered painfully at the reminder. Arthur always secretly enjoyed Merlin’s humming. It was soothing and Arthur had begun to miss it over the past couple of months.

Arthur finally managed to shake himself out of the stupor just as Hunith was thanking the last of the servants for the help. Arthur didn’t move from his position until the servant had left and Hunith was softly shutting the door behind her. There was silence for a few more seconds, before Hunith came to stand in front of him. “There’s a bath ready for you, sire.” 

Arthur nodded and stood. “Yes, thank you, Hunith.” He began to make his way toward the bathtub, attempting to reach over his shoulder to unbuckle his armor, but the blasted things were too hard to reach. 

“Would you like help with that, sire?” 

“If you wouldn’t mind, Hunith.” He heard her settle behind him and seconds later the buckles were loosening. “I appreciate you doing this. Normally, Merlin would be here to help me but…” Realizing what he said, Arthur trailed off. She’d managed to remove both his vambraces and his spaulders and was now working on his hauberk. 

“He cares for you a great deal, and even if it doesn’t seem like it, he has grown quite fond of his job as well.” She slipped his hauberk off, and the helped him work his mail over his head. When that was done, Arthur began working on untying his gambeson as Hunith placed the rest of the armor on the table. 

“This will need cleaning and a good polishing. Can’t let the king’s armor rust.”

“Just like Merlin to dirty it when he knows he won’t have to clean it.” The words came out almost unknowingly. Arthur was almost embarrassed, but Hunith just turned to him with a knowing smile. 

“I’ll just take this down to the armory then, ask one of the squires if they’d be willing to tend it for you. I would do it, but I wouldn’t know what to do with it. We don’t see armor very often in Ealdor.” 

“That will be fine, Hunith, thank you.” 

“I’ll pop in on Merlin after I’ve ensured this is taken care of, and you can have a guard come find me once you’ve finished with your bath.” She gathered the armor with an embarrassed flush to her cheeks. 

“That is if you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I would love the company, Hunith. Have you eaten?”

“No, sire, I was too nervous to even consider supper.” 

“Alright then, I’ll send for you, and we can dine together. Would you mind if Gwen joins us? I’m sure she’d love your pleasant company.”

“Of course Her Majesty can join us.”

“Perfect.” 

“By your leave, Sire?”

“Of course, go check on Merlin.” 

Hunith gave a small curtsey and headed for the door. Just before she stepped into the hall and without looking back at all she yelled back at him, “you better throw those soiled clothes in the basket, young man. A king should not be a slob.” 

Arthur picked up his gambeson from where he’d just thrown it on the floor and stared at the door as it closed behind her. He glanced at the garment, back to the door, and back to the garment—wondering how, without even glancing back at him, she could’ve known.

*****

The bath was barely steaming by the time Arthur managed to climb into it. Arthur’s baths hadn’t been nearly as warm since Merlin had disappeared. Arthur suspected magic as the cause. It would be just like Merlin to risk his life for something as ridiculous as bath water, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He spent the next couple of minutes going over the events of the night. Merlin truly was a sight to behold, a lone man defeating an entire army with no words. A man who was able to harness the very power of the earth with only a thought. A sorcerer so powerful he could command dragons and create storms where none exist. It blew Arthur’s mind that someone so powerful would willingly muck his stables and clean his boots just because he wished to serve a king, a man, who was so unworthy of such loyalty. 

The water was cooling quickly and with the memories of Merlin’s loyalty rolling his head, Arthur finished washing quickly. He hurried out of the tub and dressed quickly, mind determined to begin work on repealing the ban on magic. When he was once again presentable, he opened his door and ordered the guards to send for servants to remove his bath. “Oh, and send someone to fetch the Queen. Find someone to bring Lady Hunith from Gaius’ chambers. We’ll be dining here shortly.” The guards nodded but Arthur was already closing the door. 

He made his way to his desk and immediately got to work on the proclamation. Servants made their way in and out of the chambers for the next half candle mark, but Arthur ignored them all—too focused on making the wording correct. This had to be perfect. Those with magic were counting on him—Merlin was counting on him—to make this right. There was a shuffle in front of his desk that forced Arthur’s attention away. George stood in front of him, back straight but head bowed in subservience. “The bath has been cleared, the room cleaned, and the fire stoked. Is there anything else you need, Sire?” 

“Yes, I’ll be dining here shortly. Please make your way to the kitchens and bring enough for three. The Queen and Lady Hunith will be joining me.” 

“Yes, sire.” George said as he gave such a deep bow that Arthur thought he might tip over. Without another word, George swept out of the room almost silently. 

Less than five minutes later, Hunith was escorted in, followed closely by one of the guards. Arthur nodded at the guard to dismiss him, and then stood up from his desk to make his way to the dining table. Hunith greeted him with a small curtsey before taking the seat Arthur had pulled out for her. Just as Arthur made his way to the other side of the table, the second guard came in. “Sire, I’ve spoken with the Queen. She says that although she would love to join you for dinner, she’s busying overseeing the dismantling of the infirmary tent.”

“Oh, yes, that’s far more important. That’s alright. Thank you, Gerald. You may go.” The guard bowed and exited as Arthur took his seat. “I hope you’re alright with just me for company, Hunith. I completely forgot that Gwen would be overseeing the infirmary.” 

“It’s alright, Arthur. You’re wonderful company, and besides, Gaius’ chambers were getting a little cramped.” Arthur blushed slightly, his face heating up under Hunith’s genuine gaze. "Imagine my surprise when the guard who came to collect me said that Lady Hunith was to join his majesty for dinner." 

Arthur flushed again, embarrassed. "Your station may not grant you the title of lady, but you conduct yourself with all the grace of one, and as the mother of a dragonlord, it is only fitting you receive the title owed to you." 

Moments later, George, followed closely by another servant whose name Arthur couldn’t remember, entered the chambers with three servings for supper. The two servants spent a few seconds arranging everything meticulously, before the nameless servant gave a hasty bow and made an even hastier exit. George was just about to do the same when Arthur interrupted him. “George, my wife will not be joining us. Please take the third serving up to Gaius’ chambers, so that the physician will have a solid meal while he tends to his patient.” 

George almost looked offended at the request, as if it was improper for the court physician to have a meal fit for a king, but George didn’t voice his displeasure, unlike a certain warlock would. He simply gave a bow, grabbed the tray, and made his way out of Arthur’s rooms. Hunith’s voice broke the silence that George had left in his wake. “That George could certainly stand to lighten up a little. He constantly looks like he smells something foul but is trying to ignore it.” The humor in Hunith’s voice was enough to lighten the mood, and Arthur couldn’t help the bark of laughter that had escaped him. 

“Merlin always says that George could stand to remove that stick from his backside. It truly is entertaining to watch the two of them together. They're polar opposites. George despises the way Merlin acts in the presence of his betters, and Merlin swears that George is so proper that it physically pains him to be in that, and I quote, 'uptight, brownnoser's presence.' I'm truly surprised they haven't killed each other.”  
“That sounds like my son. I imagine it would be quite entertaining.” 

With that, they settled into pleasant conversation for the remainder of the meal.


	13. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. Thank you all so much for reading and for the patience you had for my crazy posting schedule. It's been fun.

After dinner, Hunith and Arthur sat in front of the fire, chatting amicably. Hunith was sewing as they talked, mending what looked like one of Arthur’s tunics. “How is Merlin, my lady?” 

“Please, Arthur, you can try to bestow a title on me all you want but I would prefer you call me Hunith. I’ve never been one for formality.” Arthur only nodded in response, a sheepish smile on his face. “He’s as well as he can be. It took a lot of his strength to do what he did, but he should be okay. With his magic unhindered, he should begin to heal. Though Gaius has said it will take some days for him to wake. He is weak from blood loss and pain.” 

“He will be okay?”

“He’s always been strong, Arthur, even when he was a babe.” At Arthur’s confused face she continued. “Merlin was prone to lung fever as a child. It was hard for us, most days. We had very little food most of the time and Merlin’s health tended to suffer because of it.” 

“When I was in Ealdor, there seemed like there would be plenty for those who needed it, if bandit armies didn’t come to claim it.”

“It’s true that there was usually enough, but as a single women with a bastard son, we were often provided the least. We always got the last of the harvest and it tended to be in the worst condition, sometimes inedible. I did my best for him, but it was never enough. His magic always seemed to require more of him than anyone else, and because we didn’t have it, he was more prone to illness. There have been many times in his rearing where I feared he wouldn’t live to adulthood, but he always pulled through, just as he’ll pull through this.” 

“He told me about Balinor…” She whipped her head up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry for the pain my family caused your family. Merlin should never have had to grow up without a father and you should’ve been granted the love you deserved. It truly is one of my deepest regrets.” 

“It was not your doing Arthur, you were barely a babe when Balinor was forced to flee. Your father, in his grief, acted out against magic. Your mother…she was good for him. She was one of few people who could truly control your father’s tendency towards extremes, and he loved her dearly. Her death broke him, and though he refused to admit it, he was partially to blame. When he couldn’t face it, he chose to blame magic. When Balinor was forced to flee, I went with him, back to Ealdor where I was raised. I had been training under Gaius, you see, to be a rudimentary healer for the village. Gaius asked if I would take Balinor with me. We were happy for a time, but from what Merlin’s told me, Balinor was not the man I fell in love with when he died.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. “I do not blame you for your father’s actions, Arthur. You are a far better man than he, one who is truly worthy of my son’s love.” He blushed in response. Hunith merely reached over and placed a gentle hand on his arm, gave him two or three gentle pats, and went back to her sewing. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute or two, before Arthur managed to calm down his wayward emotions. Hunith was not his mother, he knew that, but she was the only one who had ever shown him any type of motherly affection. Uther had made it his mission to make sure the nursemaids and tutors who were responsible for Arthur’s upbringing were emotionally distant and treated as a prince rather than a child who needed love. To have Hunith give him affection so freely and without hesitation made his eyes water with longing. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath as he looked out of the window. “Arthur…” When he managed to look at Hunith once again she continued. “It’s getting late and it’s been a very long day, perhaps you should get some sleep.”

“Yes, that would be a good idea. At least let me escort you to your guest chambers.”

“That’d be very kind, but I promised Gaius I’d look after my son tonight. The poor man’s been exhausted.”

“Of course. I’d like to walk with you, if you don’t mind. I’d like to check on Merlin one last time.”

“It would be my pleasure, sire.” With that they both rose from their chairs. Arthur took a moment to stretch and wipe some of the weariness from his body while Hunith placed Arthur’s, now mended, tunic over the back of the chair. She took Arthur’s proffered arm and the walked out of Arthur’s chambers.

*****

When they arrived, they found that Gwaine, Leon, Percival, and Gaius sitting around Gaius’ small dining table drinking tea and laughing quietly. Gaius rose from his seat as Arthur and Hunith stepped through the door. “Sire.” 

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement before turning to his knights. “Shouldn’t you all be heading to bed.”

They all looked slightly chastised, but it was Gwaine who recovered the quickest. “We just wanted to keep Gaius company seeing how his ward has gone back to sleepin’. Something wrong with that?” 

“Not at all. Gaius? How is he?””

“He’s doing well, all things considered. I still have no idea how he had the strength or energy to do even one of those spells let alone all of them, especially considering how injured he was to begin with. I believe he’ll be fine, the stress reopened all of his wounds which I’ve retreated and rebandaged, and he should sleep for a few days. It’ll take a while for him to recover, especially considering that the patients palette was not designed for patients with extensive injuries such as Merlin’s, but he should recover, in time.”

“You think he’ll recover faster in a softer and more comfortable place?”

“Yes, the wood of the palette is meant to keep a patient level while I tend to them, but it’s never been conducive to healing. I try to make it as comfortable as possible, but for someone who has so many extensive injuries it’s hard.”

“Can he be moved?”

“Sire?”

“Is he strong enough to be moved somewhere else?” 

“Yes, as long as we’re gentle.” 

Arthur nodded his head absently. He stood there quietly for a while, internally warring with himself before he steeled himself. “Gwaine, Leon, Percival, could you assist with moving Merlin to my antechamber? Would that be alright, Gaius?”

“I don’t see why not.” 

*****

Merlin woke up in a room that was definitely not his own. The bed was far too comfortable, and the last he checked there was no fireplace in his cupboard of a room in Gaius’ chambers. In the back of his head, Merlin could feel the distant ache of fresh injuries, and he knew that when he opened his eyes the pain would register fully. It took a few deep breaths, to brace himself against the pain, before he managed to open his eyes. 

He found himself staring at a somewhat familiar bed canopy. It wasn’t Arthur’s, that he was sure. He’d been changing the sheets on that bed and dragging the damn prat out of it for a decade now—he’d know those bed hangings anywhere—but these were still somewhat familiar. He managed to turn his head enough to look around the room. There was a fire in the fireplace that was a few feet from the right of the bed. There was a rug and a small armchair and side table facing it. At the foot of the bed, there was a changing screen a wardrobe against the wall, and at the end of that wall in the corner of the room, there was a small door. To his left, a few feet from the lone window, there was a dining table and a couple of chairs.   
He was still trying to puzzle out where he was when the small door in the corner of the room opened. Merlin heard three people before he saw them. He couldn’t tell who it was with the dim light provided by the slowly waning fire. He tried to sit up to get a better look at whoever was coming into whatever room he was in, but he hissed in pain as soon as he tried to push himself up with his arms. The noise caught the attention of those who were making their way inside. “Merlin?”

Oh. That was Arthur. “Yeah.” 

“You’re awake!”

“I think so?” Arthur huffed a small chuckle in response as he made his way over the bed. He pulled a chair from the table over and took a seat to Merlin’s left. 

“We’ve been worried. Gaius thought you would wake up a day or two ago, but then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been contrary.”

Merlin opened his mouth, trying to reply with something witty, but his exhausted brain was too tired to come up with anything. Instead he just replied with “prat,” and he smiled as he watched Arthur’s mouth twitch in response. Then his brain processed everything Arthur had said. “We?”

The two other people had been conversely quietly in the dark corner near the door, but at his prompting they stepped forward into the low light. “Yes, honey, we.” 

“Mum?” She only nodded. He looked to the right. “Gwen?” 

“Merlin!” Gwen took a few steps and, gingerly but enthusiastically, threw her arms around him as best she could. “It’s good to see you awake.” She let go of him, taking a few steps around the bed to sit gingerly on the mattress to Merlin’s right. 

“It’s good to see you too, Gwen.” 

His mum asked the next question. “How are you feeling?” Merlin tried to sit up again, wincing as he moved. Arthur moved quickly, slipping a gentle arm beneath Merlin’s shoulder and helping him sit forward. Gwen, moving just a quickly, stuck a few more pillows between the headboard and Merlin’s back. 

“I’m cold…” his mother immediately moved across the room to bank the fire. When the fire was once again roaring happily, Merlin continued. “It hurts.” 

“What hurts, Merlin?” She asked.

“Everything… and I think I’m hungry.” Hunith made her way back over to the foot of the bed, placing herself next to Gwen. It was quiet for a moment, and Merlin watched as both Gwen’s and Hunith’s eyes drifted to where Arthur’s hand was still resting on Merlin’s wrist after helping him sit up. It was then that Merlin noticed that Arthur thumb was tracing small patterns on his wrist where their skin rested together. His heart sped up readily in Merlin’s chest at the contact and the Arthur seemed to be doing it subconsciously. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Gwen and his mother exchange a knowing and somewhat exasperated look between them. He opened his mouth to ask them what they thought they knew, when Gwen beat him to it. 

“I’ll go fetch some broth from the kitchens. It’s been sometime since dinner so the kitchens may just be a skeleton crew. It may take a while, but I’ll have it here as quickly as possible. Hunith, would you accompany me?”

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, Gwen. Let us do that.” They fled the room as quickly as possible. 

*****

Merlin turned to Arthur to ask what the hell that whole thing was about and if he was as confused as Merlin was by the whole thing, but the look on Arthur’s face made him pause. He was frowning deeply and staring into the fire, seeming to forget Merlin was there at all. His shoulders were hunched and the grip he had on Merlin’s wrist was getting tighter by the second. “Arthur?”

He looked up quickly meeting Merlin’s eyes. “I thought I lost you Merlin.” It was said quietly and in a rush, as if Arthur was afraid he’d lose his nerve to say it at all. Merlin opened his mouth, about to say something like ‘didn’t know you cared’ to ease the tension like he had in the past. Arthur had never been good at talking about feelings, and he always seemed grateful when Merlin would fall into their teasing banter to prevent them from having to talk about anything emotional ever, but something gave him pause. Arthur’s shoulders were slumped and his hair was standing up in odd places—as sure sign that he’d been running his fingers through his hair in nervousness. For as long as Merlin had known him, Arthur had always hid everything he was feeling. He always made sure that his face and his body language never portrayed anything other than polite indifference. It had taken Merlin years to slowly discover the small ways the prince’s, and now king’s, emotions would peak through—a clenching of a jaw or tightening of a fist were usually all that could give him away. To see him so clearly disheveled and distraught was a clear sign this conversation was not going to go anything like they usually did. 

He’d only seen Arthur look like this one other time—the night of his coronation. He’d gone through the ceremony and the rest of the festivities well enough, but as soon as he’d retired for the night, he’d slumped into a chair in front of his fire and stared into flames. It had unsettled Merlin then, to see Arthur so clearly struggling and not knowing how to fix it. It only took a few well aimed remarks and a solid cup and a half of wine before Arthur had confessed his doubts about taking the crown. Merlin had spouted a few words of wisdom, declared his faith in him, and then taunted him into a happier mood. It was easy then, Merlin remembered, to pull Arhutr out of that melancholy, but he had no idea how to fix an Arthur who looked as wrecked and exhausted as he did now. 

Merlin had always thought Arthur strong. He had remained strong though so many different trials that would have broken lesser men, but seeing tears in Arthur’s eyes now told Merlin that perhaps this whole event had finally pushed Arthur too far. Arthur looked down again, eyes dropping to where his hand was resting on Merlin’s arm. “When you went missing, I was lost. It took a month for us to be able to find a way to get to you and all I could think about was that the last interactions we had together were me treating you like dirt. Then you got yourself kidnapped and tortured just because you were too busy saving me to worry about yourself.” He sniffled slightly and blinked, trying to keep his tears at bay. “You’ve sacrificed so much for my kingdom and it took me too long to rescue you. Then when we did rescue you, you were in such bad shape. You were unconscious for two months, and even though everyone kept telling me you would recover, I couldn’t help but think that if you died it would break me.” Arthur slumped a little more in his seat, and though he was looking down, Merlin could see a tear slide slowly down his face. . 

“Arthur…” Merlin breathed out, reaching for Arthur despite the pain it caused him. 

“Please, Merlin, let me finish. If I don’t get this out now I may lose my courage. Please.”

“Yeah okay, Arthur.” 

“There are things I realized on that trip to the border, Merlin. Things that I didn’t want to deal with and didn’t want to talk to you about, but I need to talk about them now. I need to tell you now because if these last few months have taught me anything it’s that I may not have the time to say them in the future.”

“Arthur, you’re starting to scare me. What is it?”

“I’m…” He paused and took a deep breath. Looking up again to meet Merlin’s eye, he continued. “I’m in love with you, Merlin.” Merlin’s breath caught in his throat at the declaration. “I think I have been for some time. I know it’s a lot to take in, and if you don’t feel the same way, I completely understand. We can just pretend this whole thing never—”

“Oh you foolish, foolish man.” Merlin interrupted, sitting up more in his bed and reaching his free hand to out to cradle Arthur’s face. He breathed through the pain it caused, needing to get into as much contact with Arthur as possible. “All those sacrifices I’ve made. All that pain that I’ve gone through—Arthur that was never for Camelot. It was all for you. It will always be for you. I would do it all again, without hesitation, if it meant keeping you safe and alive. I would stop, have stopped, whole armies just to protect you. Everything I am is for you, you daft man. How could you possibly think that I do not feel the same way?” 

“You’re not lying to me out of some misplaced sense of obligation or duty, are you? I could not take it.”

“Have I ever done anything I did not want to do, even if it was my duty to do it?” Merlin threw Arthur an exasperated smile. Arthur didn’t look convinced. “You need never worry about my sincerity, Arthur. I would never lie to you about something like this.”

Arthur had looked away from Merlin again, though his head was still cradled in Merlin’s palm. “I’m yours, Arthur,” Merlin heard Arthur’s breath catch “as I have been from the moment I set foot in this citadel.”

It was less than a second before Arthur’s lips were on his own. It was relatively gentle, considering Merlin’s current state, but it burned. It was full of passion and longing and years of pining and regret. It was sweet and chaste and perfect. 

They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. They jumped apart at the noise, both blushing and looking at anything but each other. “Sorry to interrupt you boys, but I brought Merlin’s broth.”   
Arthur cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you Hunith. Guinevere.” 

Gwen couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face, despite her admirable efforts. “Arthur.” 

“Arthur, why don’t you take this?” Hunith handed him the broth. “Make sure he eats it. Then it’s off to bed for the both of you. It’s late.”

“Speaking of, Hunith, perhaps we should head to our rooms for the night as well…leave these two to catch up.” Both Merlin and Arthur flushed red in response to Gwen’s statement.

“Yes, of course.” Hunith leaned over Merlin and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then just before she left the side of the bed, she leaned over a gave one to Arthur as well. “Goodnight, boys.” With that she linked arms with Gwen and together they hurried from the room. 

An embarrassed silence followed their leaving. Merlin kept trying to catch Arthur’s eyes and Arthur steadfastly kept his eyes on the stone floor. In an exasperated tone Merlin tried to draw his attention. “Arthur…”  
Arthur met his eyes briefly, a small embarrassed flush on his cheeks, but he didn’t reply. Instead he turned to the table behind him, gently picked up the bowl of broth and turned back to Merlin. 

“Gaius says you need food, water, and rest, so let’s get this broth into you so you can return to sleep.” Merlin rolled his eyes at the change of subject but nodded anyway. Merlin reached out for the bowl, but Arthur moved it carefully out of his grasp. Merlin frowned but settled back into the pillows behind him. When Arthur was satisfied he wasn’t going to make another attempt to grab the bowl, he set it in his lap and carefully brought a spoonful to Merlin’s lips. Merlin blushed a bit when he realized Arthur was planning to hand feed him, but he took the spoonful anyway. Arthur looked all too smug about the whole thing.

After a few spoonfuls, Merlin was beginning to feel the pain and exhaustion creeping up on him. “Come on, Merlin, just a few more bites and then you can be done. Can’t have you wasting away now after all that has happened.” Merlin gave him a flinty glare, but gallantly finished the last of the broth. 

Arthur stood up, put the bowl on the table, and walked out of the antechamber. He returned seconds later with a cup of water and a small vial. He retook his seat gently and helped Merlin to drink the water. When Merlin was done, Arthur put the cup back on the table and open the vial. Merlin eyed it warily. Gaius was a master physician but he could use some work when it came to how his potions tasted. Arthur gave him an understanding look and then shrugged. “Gaius says it will help with the pain.” Merlin nodded and drank it down without question, though it did leave him grimacing when it was done. Arthur put the vial down. “Good, let’s get you settled then.” Arthur leaned down and gently tucked his arm between Merlin’s back and the, quite frankly, ridiculous amount of pillows behind him. With Arthur’s support, Merlin managed to wriggle back down into a more comfortable position. With that effort, Merlin was left boneless and exhausted, he could feel the draught kicking in and it would only be a matter of moments before he would be asleep. This was emphasized by a yawn. 

Arthur chuckled slightly as he pulled him arm from beneath Merlin’s body. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down to press a light kiss to Merlin’s forehead. “Sleep well, love.” 

*****

Merlin healed faster than most, though it still took quite a long time. He’d been on strict bed rest for two weeks. When Gaius finally allowed him out of bed, he was still too weak to go far. For the following two weeks he moved between the antechamber and Arthur’s chambers, though he grew in strength every day, he still required assistance to move anywhere over a couple steps away. Merlin was frustrated with the slow progress. He hated being stuck in one place, and he hated relying on the walking stick Gaius had provided him so that he didn’t have to keep calling for help just to move around a room. 

There were some good things about this time though. Merlin and Arthur spent every moment they could together. Though Merlin was not yet well enough to leave Arthur’s rooms, Arthur would find random times to return to his chambers to work. They took meals together and spent the night hours talking and kissing and exploring each other in ways they’d never dared to before, and though there was no doubt that part of the relationship was new, there was no doubt in either of their minds that it felt right. 

*****

It took three whole months for Merlin to return mostly to himself. Though his physical wounds had healed, there were some that would still ache after a long day, and there was still some weakness in his legs—the muscles still struggling after going unused for so long. The events didn’t effect Merlin’s demeanor much. He was still friendly to everyone and still as insolent to Arthur, though that was unlikely to ever change, but occasionally Arthur would watch him and see his smile drop and his eyes turn glassy. It was during those times when Arthur would draw Merlin into his lap, wrap him in his arms and just hold him until the memories faded and Merlin would smile hesitantly and plant a kiss on Arthur’s lips. 

The nights were the worst. Merlin would wake up at night, screaming or crying or shaking, and clutch at his ribs where the Lott’s brand was burned into his skin. Arthur would wake with him and brush his fingers over Merlin’s skin and whisper that he was safe, that he was home, that it was just a dream. Once Merlin had calmed, Arthur would ease him back down into their bed and hold him close, tracing soothing pattern onto Merlin’s skin as he returned to sleep. 

After one particularly bad dream, one where Merlin could feel each crack of the whip and slash of a knife, Merlin lay tucked into Arthur’s arms, breath ghosting comfortingly over Arthur’s collarbones. Though they were both still awake, they lay mostly in silence. Arthur was tracing his fingers over Merlin’s left side and just listening to Merlin breathe when his fingers brushed lightly over the brand. Merlin had been self-conscious of it, ever since the trial. While Merlin was sleeping, shortly after the battle, Arthur had sent word to the other kingdoms, alerting them of the charges brought against the two kings. Most of the kings and queens had sent back that they’d be traveling to the citadel to attend the trial and renegotiate the peace treaty. It had taken the first two weeks of Merlin’s recovery for all envoys to arrive. Merlin had been helped down to the throne room to give his account of his time in Lott’s custody, and though many could see for themselves, his testimony was backed by the physical proof of his injuries. Arthur, trying to keep Merlin’s stress down had limited the attendees of the trial to visiting dignitaries and Camelot nobles only. It hadn’t done much to quell the rumors that followed him to this day, and the brand was a reminder of this experience that would be with him forever. Merlin’s breath hitched lightly as Arthur’s fingers brushed against it, but he said nothing. “Can you remove it? With magic?” 

It was silent for a for a few moments. “No. Healing magic can only do so much, and I’m not very good with it anyway.”

“Merlin…”

“Arthur don’t. We’re okay. I’m okay. It’s over.” 

Arthur sighed, nodded, and pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead. They laid in silence again, and though Arthur was tired, he could tell Merlin was still quite restless. 

“So…” Merlin started, “High King, huh?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Just because I’m not your manservant anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t hear things.”  
There had been a small ceremony, where Arthur had Geoffrey declare Merlin his consort and official Court Sorcerer. It was unconventional, to have both wife and consort, but Arthur had wanted to make sure that his people knew just how important Merlin was to him. Merlin now had his own duties, but apparently he still knew where to get all the important information. “Now what’s this about you being named High King?”

Arthur sighed, knowing Merlin wasn’t going to give up. “After the trial, during the peace talks, it was brought to my attention that after the execution of Lott and Alined I was rightful king of their lands.”

“You were? How?”

“By right of conquest. Neither of them had any heirs, by all rights their kingdoms became mine.”

“Right that makes sense.” 

“And since you recently alerted me to the fact that the Fisher King” he gave Merlin a pointed look and Merlin had the sense to look a little sheepish, “named me his heir when you had your little chat, I’m now also king of Elmet.”

“Elmet?”

“I couldn’t keep calling it the perilous lands, especially because they’re not so perilous anymore. I had Geoffrey look into its history. The land was originally called Elmet, but that’s beside the point. I’m now king of a majority of land in the southern kingdoms. Because of this, the rulers of the southern kingdoms have agreed to name me High King. It’s all too complicated to explain right now.”

“Yes, you’re probably right, but Arthur, High King! This is everything you’ve ever wanted!”

“I know. It’s all a little frightening, to be honest. I don’t know how to do this.”

“That’s okay, Arthur. We can figure out together.”

“Together?”

“Always, Arthur.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And the lived _Happily Ever After._


End file.
